The Quarter Quell
by Deyna Ian Bloom
Summary: In the 25th Hunger Games, Elena Flint has been voted into the arena. Outcast in her district for something she didn't do, she never thought someone would believe in her. It's up to Benedict, her mentor and the man who loves her, to help her survive the Games. But will it be enough to keep her alive?
1. Ch1: The Quarter Quell

-i-

In District 5, most of the land is covered with the turbines. Each turbine keeper is responsible for a five mile plot. We make sure that the turbines get fixed when they break, a process that involves a lot of climbing, and engine grease. One turbine in each plot has a small home attached to the bottom for the keeper to live in. It's a lonely life, even if we do group up every so often and go to town for supplies.

It rains a lot in my territory. I sit in my small home, room is a better word, and sip weak coffee. I stare out my small window and try to ignore the memories that pop up whenever I look around at the furniture. In a flash of lightning, I spot something that makes me get up and grab my coat.

The only perk to living a lonely life is we're all given electric taser rods. The Peacekeepers don't like animals making homes in the fields, since they get in the way when turbines need parts delivered. The Head only needed to step in skunk droppings one time before he issued us the rods. If we take them one step outside our five mile ranges, the rods electrocute us. Since corpses bring more pests, we're allowed to eat the game we electrocute. If we sell any part of it, it's punishable by 20 lashes. Needless to say, all the keepers stay warm in the winter with pelt covers.

I pick up my rod from its hook on the wall, and step outside to catch the latest vermin: a huge raccoon. I'm not very fast, owing to a leg injury, but the rods have a button that extends them quickly and then they retract automatically. All I have to do is get in range. My prey hasn't spotted me. The rain has washed my scent away, and the lightning hides me from the raccoon's gaze. I step closer and closer, silently creeping up to it, using smaller flashes to keep its location in my head. A flash of lightning peals, revealing me to the creature, and before it can scurry away, I push the button and hear the crackle of electricity. It falls on its side, dead. I hold the rod up above my head.

Winner!

I pick up the corpse and carry it back to my house. Just as I set it in a basin to start cleaning it, my small television turns on. Every television turns on when there's an official broadcast. I roll my eyes. I can't wait to hear.

A.J. Sweetbottom, the master of ceremonies for the Hunger Games, pops up on the screen.

"Hello, people of Panem!" He bounces in his chair, his chubby body wiggling in his light blue suit. "In case you just missed it, that was President Abnar Snow announcing that this year's Hunger Games is a Quarter Quell! This is the 25th year of the Hunger Games, and things will be done a little differently in celebration of the anniversary of the ending of the Dark Days." He cheers animatedly, and a little longer than everyone else. "The Reaping Day is in a week, and I have to tell you, I think this year is going to be the best ever!" He says it so energetically, it almost sounds like a party worth going to. The crowd goes wild. I wait for him to say more about what's different in the games, but he doesn't elaborate. It's possibly the last year I have to be at the Reaping. I turn 19 the day after. I doubt the officials will care.

The raccoon is prepared in record speed, and his meat put in my tiny icebox, one only keepers are given. I wash his pelt and hang it up to dry. I'll cure it later. I grab my pack and head out to the road. The district town is fifteen miles, a distance I can't walk anymore with my bad leg. My brothers, the twin rogues Gin and Spark, save up money each month to buy me a transportation pass. There's a Peacekeeper tower near my spread, and whenever I need a lift, they drive me to town in their car. Skinner, the one in charge of the tower, greets me with a nod as I come up.

"Need a ride, Keeper Elena?" He knows my turbines are working, so that's the only reason I'd be up here. He doesn't really like being my escort, but the extra money doesn't hurt his attitude. After I nod, we get into the ugly jeep, one with no cover I might add, and drive to town.

"Must be something important," he says over the rain.

I'm not in the mood to share. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Ain't late. People might see you." His fake concern almost sounds un-fake.

"I'm not staying long," I answer, hating that the only reason he mentions it is he thinks me being an outcast is amusing. Especially the reason why.

"You could stay over at the tower sometime," he says with a grin I've come to hate.

"I like my turbine just fine, Skinner."

He laughs. "Then I'll come over there, darlin'." His hand inches to my leg. I resist the urge to slap it, since doing so will probably get me a lashing, or something else horrid.

"No visitors," I quip back.

"Now now, Keeper Elena. You know as well as I that you used to have a gentleman caller in that turbine almost every night. That's what the other men tell me."

He has to bring this up. "That was four years ago."

"What was his name," he asks, his tone teasing.

Robert. Just the thought of his name brings back memories. His cheeky grin, his hands on my body. My cheeks flame.

"Looks like your thoughts are one step away from decent," Skinner says huskily, no doubt thinking he's seductive.

"And yours wouldn't know a decent thought if it bit them." I keep my gaze away from him, and jump out of the jeep when we've reached the edge of town. I hear him shouting, probably changing his tone and saying I shouldn't be on foot, but I ignore him. My family's house isn't far.

My parents are only a couple because of a last attempt at rebellion. The people in District 5 declared there would be no more children born to be slaughtered in the Hunger Games. The Dark Days had just ended, and this decision was sparked by the announcement of the first Games. President Abnar Snow responded by marrying every fertile young person older than 18 off to another citizen, taking care to choose someone they did not know. All of them. And their marriage contracts were unbreakable. They were also required to produce at least two children, and if they did not become pregnant within two years, the Peacekeepers would make sure it happened. Every couple obeyed, and the rebellion was squelched for good.

My parents didn't know each other before they were married. Each in love with someone else, now had to watch their sweethearts be in another's arms. Everyone learned to at least tolerate their unwanted spouses, and a few even fell in love. Mine obviously liked each other enough to have another child after their required two came at the same time. You couldn't tell by seeing them together, however. The only thing they agree on is that they no longer consider me their blood.

I avoid a few people still out, and find my way to the back door of my family's house. I knock four times, then three. There's a scuffle, some stomping, and the door opens. Spark is there, holding a bag of whatever they can spare and think I need. He hands it to me, and I make out Gin standing in the opposite doorway, keeping watch.

"Hey, Lena," he whispers.

"Did you catch the Quarter Quall announcement?"

He scans behind me, making sure we're not seen. "It's Quell, and yes."

I roll my eyes. "Well I didn't. What did they say?"

He sighs and doesn't look at me. "It's not good, baby girl." We hear Gin snap his fingers and Spark slams the door in my face. The lock clicks and I hear my father's low voice. My fingers grip the burlap bag in anger, so before I can make it worse by being seen, I turn around and stomp back to Skinner.

He smiles and takes the sack, even though it's not heavy. "Nice family visit?"

"Shut up," I mutter, walking around the jeep to get in my seat.

"Hold up, little miss. Official announcement." He points to the television screens nearest us, calling for everyone to listen to the required watching. I can tell he's sorry he has to do his job for once. I pull my hood forward and walk over to the screens.

A small crowd has gathered around the square to watch. I stay near the back, hunching slightly to look shorter. The screen lights up with the symbol of Panem and with everything lit up, my eyes automatically go to a girl wearing a white dress. She's standing next to him. Next to Robert.

The years have been good to him. He's now roguishly handsome, where before he was just cute. His body has more muscles, and he's taller. The girl standing next to him is obviously his new sweetheart, as he has no sisters. While the anthem plays, he tries to put his arm on her and touch her hair, but she pushes his every advance away. I narrow my eyes in fury. Of course he'd go from a girl like me to a girl who is so virginal, she won't let him touch her.

President Abnar's voice comes to our ears. "Citizens of Panem, in remembrance of the Dark Days, and the 25th anniversary of the peace that has been in our land, we have drawn the first Quarter Quell envelope describing the details for this year's Hunger Games. This year the tributes of the Hunger Games will be decided by a vote. Every young person, age 12 to 18, will put their votes forward in the next week, and the tributes will be announced at the Reaping." He says more official things, then adds, "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

I stand still, frozen to my spot. The odds are not in my favor this year. The world turns into a blur and as the crowd starts to leave, someone knocks me over. I fall into the mud, face first. Concerned voices offer to help me up, hands grab my arms. When I stand straight, my hood has fallen back and they can see my face.

"It's her," an old woman cries, her hands coming off my arm like I'm burning her. Everyone backs away from me, muttering things like, "loose woman," "devil's spawn," and others that I've heard before.

I turn to leave, wiping my face with my sleeve, watching the crowd part a path so no one has to touch me. Bastards. I keep walking, looking at the ground. Her shoes catch my eye. The girl that Robert loves now. Polished shoes, barely showing under her long and modest white dress. My gaze travels up her dress and I see Robert next to her, looking at me like I'm dirty, his eyes haughty like he's done nothing wrong.

I swing my foot back and bring it towards him, slinging a glob of mud on their perfect clothes. She gasps, and he steps in front of her, to protect her from me. The evil girl. Don't let the evil girl taint her, they're all thinking. I straighten up, hold my head high, and keep walking towards Skinner and his jeep.

When I'm halfway there, I hear someone shout, "I'm telling my daughter to vote for you, harlot! We don't need your kind here! The Games will kill you for your sins!"

Skinner already has the jeep started when I get there. His face has lost its humor. I get into my seat and he takes off. We don't speak for the first five miles.

"Tell me something, Elena." He rarely calls me by just my name. "Do the people here actually believe the Hunger Games are justified?" He's only been stationed here a year.

I watch the horizon, focus on the storm that's still raging at sea. "They don't believe it's a punishment for rebellion, as the Capital believes. They believe that anyone who dies in the Games is being punished for sins." I cross my arms over my chest. "Innocent girls and boys from our district have been killed in the Games. Ones who wouldn't kill a spider. And now their families refuse to mention their names. They obviously had a sin, and the god of Panem punished them for it."

He laughs, turning back into a Peacekeeper. "The seven deadly sins, is that what they think? There is no god in Panem."

I picture President Abnar's face. "Yes. There is."

-i-


	2. Ch2: The Reaping

-i-

Tessera isn't in high demand in District 5. Most of the children work in the factories that make batteries and lightbulbs, or in the ones that power the devices made in District 3, and earn their own food money. They start at age 8. By age 12, they can rewire any device to do whatever they want, a skill usually only found in District 3. Because barely any children need Tessera, our grain comes from the crops of wheat that are the worst quality. It has to go somewhere, and District 11 doesn't get to eat what they harvest.

When I was outcast at age 15, I had to sign up for tessera. I soon found that it gives me horrible stomach aches every night, but I don't have a choice. It's eat tessera or go hungry. I don't tell my brothers that I wake up every night in agony. I just have to stick it out until I turn 19. Then I go up to full pay as a keeper, and I can afford cheap oat grain. Not that I'll make it to 19. My fate was sealed this week. I'll die in the Games as punishment for being a harlot.

I pound up some of the monthly grain in my kitchen and lean against my very short counter, not even paying attention to the consistency of the grain in my mortar. Pound. Pound. Pound. Doom. Doom. Doom. The pounding of the pestle makes me not notice someone knocking on my door until it becomes loud enough to interrupt my thoughts.

"Elena! Open the damn door!" I put the mortar down, knocking it over and spilling the grain onto the floor in my haste.

"Oh by the gods of Panem," I swear under my breath as I ignore the mess and open the door.

"You should watch your tongue, Lena," Gin chides sarcastically before pushing past me to get inside. Spark kisses me on the cheek and hands me another bag full of who knows what.

I hand it back. "Don't give me anything, Spark. You know I'm going to be in the Games. In fact, you should take most of my things with you." I bend down and start to grab the bag they gave me three nights ago, but they stop me and sandwich me in a twin brother hug. I give in and relax against them.

"How did the voting go," Spark asks while stroking my hair.

I picture the atmosphere in front of the Hall of Justice that I had to be in the midst of yesterday. Parents who brought their female children kept whispering my name over and over. Elena Flint. Vote for Elena Flint. Older girls gave me hard looks. Their parents didn't need to tell them to vote for me. When it was my turn to vote, I did what everyone else was doing and wrote my own name. Might as well.

"I think they all voted for that one girl who picks her nose all the time," I answer, trying to sound funny, and failing miserably.

Spark reaches into his pocket and puts something in my hand. "We made this when we saw the announcement, just in case. It's your token." I open my hand and see a tiny carved turbine on a leather necklace.

"We thought you might want to see a bit of home again, if you…." Gin cuts off.

"Die?" I finish.

He sighs impatiently. "It could just be paranoia. We don't know that you'll be chosen."

"They could find the votes invalid, since you'll be 19 the next day," Spark adds, trying to be cheerful as usual.

"Mmhmm, and sometimes they let two tributes win instead of one," I quip back. Gin lets go of me and strokes my hair, something he would never do normally. Spark is the gentle one. Gin is the one who used to punch me to toughen me up.

"We can stay here tonight, Lena, if you want," Gin offers quietly.

I shake my head, my fingers cradling the precious necklace. "What…..what did they…"

Spark squeezes my upper arm, somehow using his twin telepathy on me as he always does. "Mom and Dad said it served you right. And when your body comes back, they're not paying for a funeral, since you ceased to become their daughter when you became worthless."

Gin hits him. "Geez, Spark. I'm usually the harsh one." I squeeze my eyes shut. I won't cry. I feel Gin hug me again, crushing me to his broad chest. "We love you, Lena. We've never thought you were worthless. And I hope you never have either."

I shake my head against him. "I never thought I was. I did nothing wrong."

He smiles down at me, putting me at arm's length and brushing a few escaped tears away. "That's my good sister. Now, try not to cry like a wimp when you get hit. It's live tv, you know."

I grin, trying not to, and hit him with my hardest punch. He pretends it doesn't hurt. "Screw you, Gin. I'm going to win, and I'll come back here and make everyone kiss my toes."

They both grin at me. "That's right. Win for your honor, Lena," Spark says, giving me a manly tap to my shoulder. "Show them you don't need it."

"That'll be my victory speech," I say with a smile, grabbing my broom and holding it above my head. "Fuck you, District 5, and fuck your sex related complex!" We all laugh and I feel the tension in my shoulders loosening.

"Lena," Gin says while taking the broom from me, his face serious again. "You'll have to kill people. Do you think you can?"

I look into their grey eyes and turn away to look out of my window, my gaze finding the sea that runs beside my charge. "I might be able to …" I picture all the fantasies I've had about killing Robert. Maybe if I picture his face, I can kill the other tributes. Does that make me evil?

Gin puts his hand on my shoulder. "Killing doesn't make you evil, Lena. If you kill for survival. Killing Robert would be evil." I scowl at the window, hating that my brothers use their freaky twin powers on me. "His fate will be much more satisfying when you win. You can tell all of Panem how bad a lover he was," he says with a laugh.

Spark kisses my hair. "We have to go, Lena. We'll be there tomorrow. Mom and Dad said we can't see you off, so that's why we came to say…." He cuts off, trying not to choke up.

"Good bye?" I offer.

"Good _luck_," he says back, sniffing indignantly.

I smile and kiss them both on the cheek. "Root for me, okay?"

Gin gives me another light punch. "You bet your cute ass we will." Spark makes a choked noise and Gin rolls his eyes. "We'll see ya, Lena." He takes Spark's arm and leads him out.

I turn to the sea as the door closes, taking my precious brothers away.

-i-

The next day, I wake up tired as usual because most my sleep was interrupted with horrible cramps. It feels like a regular day because of that, but it isn't. I get up grumbling, and using choice swear words to describe my hatred for tessera. I dress in my nicest dress, which is very low in front because I sewed it to look nice for Robert, and cover it with a jacket. My new necklace is the finishing touch. Skinner is waiting for me at his jeep, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze looking at sea. He puffs his cigarette and brings it away from his mouth to tap the cinders off.

"Guess this is the last time I drive you," he says quietly.

I don't even bother trying to be positive. "Now you won't have extra money to buy cigarettes."

He smiles and takes another drag. "Don't be silly. I use it to buy women. Now I'll have to use my charm to get some kitty."

I jump into my seat. "Guess you'll become celibate, then," I say with a sarcastic smile.

He hits my arm playfully, breaking the business barrier we have always had. "None of your cheek, girl." His hand stays on my arm and he gives it a squeeze. "Sorry it had to be you, darlin'. Wish to god it wasn't. And don't go tellin' anyone I said that." I shake my head like it doesn't matter. I'm not fooling him.

We don't speak the whole way to town. I drink in the view of all the turbines, and the rolling sea. It could be my last time to see them. When we get to town, Skinner drives me all the way to the sign-in tables. Everyone moves out of the way so they don't get run over, and the line is broken.

"There, now you're first in line," Skinner says with a smile. "Now get your hussy ass out of the jeep." I flip him off and jump down. He speeds away, effectively messing up everyone's day by splashing the children and teenagers with mud. The sign-in lady rolls her eyes and grabs my finger to take my blood.

"Uh…I have a question," I say timidly. The lady looks at me like I just said her hair is on fire. No one asks the sign-in people questions. Ever.

She's so shocked, she decides to be polite. "Ask."

"I wasn't sure if I'm eligible this year. I turn nineteen tomorrow." I try to look at the table instead of her face.

She loses the surprised look. "The Reaping is today, young lady. Not tomorrow. Ages twelve to eighteen are eligible for the Reaping. You are still eighteen. Now go." I can't say I'm surprised. I nod to her, and walk towards the Hall of Justice.

It takes about twenty minutes for everyone to sign-in and take their place behind the ropes. I find a spot near the front, since I can't show my limp to my opponents by walking far to the stage. Standing on the stage is Fresca, the District 5 escort. He's very flamboyant, and always has some crazy outfit on. This year his outfit is decorated with strings of light bulbs. After a few minutes of him turning the power pack on, they start flashing on and off in random patterns. I hear some of the twelve-year-olds giggling at him. No doubt they could make something way more extravagant.

The other three people on the stage are the only previous winners from District 5, a man and a slightly greying woman, who are sitting next to the mayor, all three of whom their names escape me. I have never had an interest in watching the Games, so my brothers always tell me what district the latest winner is from. I don't remember them ever saying District 5, so I assume the man and woman won within the first ten years of the Games. The woman looks like she's in her early forties, the man in his early thirties. I catch him looking at me as a breeze catches my jacket, revealing my dress for two seconds. I find a spot on the stage and stare at it as the screen starts playing the promo video like it does every year. You all rebelled, and now we make your kids kill each other, blah blah.

"Hello, District 5!" Fresca shouts into the mic after the video is over. "Well isn't this a fabulous Reaping day!" No one agrees. "Now, in case you were too busy looking at my outfit, you might not have noticed that there are no glass bowls on the stage today." I notice this as he says it, now seeing that he has two little envelopes sticking out of his pockets. "Everyone within the ages of twelve and eighteen voted for who they think should be in the Games this year, in celebration of the Quarter Quell. I hope they picked a winner!" He laughs energetically, his outfit flashing like crazy. He slips the envelope out of his right pocket. "For the Quarter Quell Hunger Games, District 5 has chosen for their female tribute…" He fumbles with the seal, either trying to be dramatic, or genuinely having difficulties. The envelope gets ripped in half, along with the paper in it, but he puts the two halves together and smiles for the cameras. "The tribute is, by unanimous vote…Elena Flint!" He claps and cheers, looking around the group for the person he just called. You'd think this was a contest, and that winning was an honor. I step out of the group, hold my head up high, and walk up to the stage. Fresca continues clapping while I walk up the steps and get closer to him. "Well don't you look fabulous, Elena Flint!" He gestures to my outfit. "District 5 must love you, little lady! They chose you for the Games! You must be the most popular girl in town!"

My eyes threaten to tear up, so I smile at him, and rip my jacket off, exposing every inch of my semi-ample cleavage to the whole of Panem. My chest is all over the television screens. I cross my arms under my breasts, making them show even more, and thank myself for wearing the dress.

"I most certainly am," I say into the mike.

Fresca laughs in his high pitch chuckle, and pulls out the other envelope. "Now let's see what yummy young man you all voted for! The male tribute for District 5 is…." This time he doesn't fumble, and gets the paper out in one piece. I silently hope it's not Robert. "Vilhem Matren."

My throat catches in a gasp. To my horror, I know exactly who that is, and I cannot believe the depravity of District 5. I scowl at the crowd as Vilhem comes up to the stage. Vilhem is an orphan, the only one in our District. His parents were killed in one of the factories when he was six. There's no group home here, since it wasn't needed until he lost his parents. No one cared to reopen it either. So Vilhem went to the streets. He became a pickpocket, and stole from people's homes when they were out. Everyone was enraged at his stealing, but no one cared to do anything about it, or take him in. When he turned eight, he applied for a job at the factory that powers District 3 electronics, but he didn't get it until he was ten. It obviously didn't pay well, because he kept stealing and stayed stick thin. Six months ago, he turned twelve and signed up for tessera. I bet his twelfth birthday didn't come fast enough for him. His body is small, smaller than the other twelve year olds in the crowd. His thick red locks make his head look too big for his body.

"Come on up, young man!" Fresca claps again, throwing an arm around Vilhem and dragging him up to the mike. "Well, you must be a little firecracker under all that hair!" He ruffles Vilhem's curls. "I bet District 5 thinks you can win because you're so tiny and quick!" Vilhem gives me a small look. We both know why we were chosen, his face says. I barely see Vilhem's arm reach out and pull a wire from Fresca's outfit. His flashing lights go out. While Fresca frets over his outfit turning off, Vilhem smiles at me and I stifle a laugh. "Come on, you two," Fresca says, giving up on his power pack. He leads us into the Hall of Justice and puts us in individual rooms for our last goodbyes. I sit down and look out the window. No one will be coming to see either of us.

After twenty minutes, the door opens and I turn in shock and see Robert and his virginal girlfriend standing there.

-i-


	3. Ch3: The Train

-i-

Robert's girlfriend is wearing another perfect white dress. I curse that there's no mud in here to sling on it.

"Hello, Elena," Robert says in a calm and humble voice. I picture him when he was my lover, slinging out curse words at the height of ecstasy and calling me a whore because it turned him on even more.

I cross my arms over my chest, happily remembering I didn't put my jacket back on. "What do you want, Robert."

He averts his eyes. "Please cover yourself, Elena. Even if you are a harlot, you can at least be decent in front of people."

"Excuse me," I say in outrage. "You were my lover, Robert. You were there every time I supposedly sinned."

"Robert is a man, Elena," his girlfriend says quietly, in the most chastising and gentle tone ever.

I glare at her, standing there in all her self-righteous purity. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Robert is allowed to act on his urges." Her eyes try to pin mine down, still gentle and sweet as ever, but also telling me she thinks she's better than me.

"So how does he get his fix, Miss Virgin, since he's allowed to have urges and I'm not?"

She looks so humble and dutiful as she says, "I use my hand once a week. I do not allow him to kiss me or touch me, since we are not man and wife, but it is not a sin to-"

"Give him a hand job?" I interrupt. "Did he tell you it's not a sin?"

"No," she says, still trying to be humble. "We went to the priest and asked him how Robert should deal with the urges you awoke in him. Since dealing with it himself is a sin, I was charged with helping him. In exchange, he must marry me."

I rub my forehead, trying to work away the headache that surfaced during her stupid justification speech. "I bet he only picked you for your huge breasts." She gasps, disbelieving Robert would do that. Of course, because he's the perfect gentleman now. He gets handies every week.

"Hold your tongue, Elena," Robert warns, still in his humble voice, like he has to tell the whore to shut up.

"Robert always said my breasts were too small, even though I think they're a good size. A perfect handful, I said to him. He always wanted bigger ones. Yours are massive." I point to her chest, which is over twice as big as mine.

Robert takes a step forward, as if to shield his big breasted handie giver from me. "I will not allow you to corrupt Juline with your harlot talk."

"Oh fuck you, Robert. Get out!" I yell.

He takes Juline's arm and she quickly removes his hand from her, still the pious virgin. "The Games will punish you for your sins, Elena. The god of Panem decides who wins, and he will definitely not let a sinner be the victor," he says as he leaves the room.

I run to the door and scream down the hall, "You have a small dick, Robert! Five inches at the most! It's no wonder I didn't bleed the first time! I bet I'm still a virgin!" He and Juline don't turn as they walk down the long hallway. He repeatedly tries to put his arm on her, but she won't allow it. Because handies are more pure than putting his arm on her. I roll my eyes. There's a giggle next to me, and I turn to see Vilhem standing in the doorway of his assigned waiting room.

"Uhh…..You heard that, didn't you," I say awkwardly.

He nods, and smiles. "S'okay, I know all about that kind of stuff. Not everyone at the factory uses their break time to eat." I try not to ponder how he knows that. Fresca prances up, his hands waving in front of him.

"Come on, my fabulous duo! It's time to get on the train and go to the Capital!" He squees and pushes us down the hall. A crowd is waiting outside the side door of the Hall of Justice. They don't cheer, boo, or make any kind of noise. They stand silent and watch us get into the fancy car that's waiting for the two people District 5 voted to die in the Games. I wonder if any of the other Districts chose this year to get rid of their riffraff.

Vilhem's clothes get smudges on the leather car seats, sending Fresca into a fit. I ignore him and his broken light bulb costume while we ride to the train station, which is a short trip. Fresca shoves us onto the train and lays a cloth in one of the nice chairs before he allows Vilhem to sit down.

"Alrighty then," Fresca says, happy now that his chairs are protected. "I'll go get Illumia and Benedict, so you two sit right here. I'll be back shortly, and then we can have lunch." He prances off to another car. Vilhem and I sit in silence. My silence is because of all the anxiety I've had since the Quarter Quell announcement. I'm pretty sure Vilhem's silence has something to do with the trays of snacks in front of us. Poor boy hasn't had a real meal in years. When it's obvious that Vilhem is two seconds away from sprinting to the snacks and stuffing himself, Fresca comes back in, followed by the greying woman and the when-did-he-get-handsome man who was sitting next to her at the Reaping. The woman is dressed in a very nice dark suit, her salt and pepper hair up in a chignon with not one strand out of place. The man, who looks tall now that he's standing, is dressed all in black in a casual blazer with simple pants and a button down collared shirt. Very different from the Capital style.

"This is Illumia and Benedict," Fresca says, gesturing to them.

"Hmm…" Illumia looks us over, making a humming noise in her throat. "I'll take the boy."

Fresca waves a hand at her. "You're supposed to mentor the girl, Illumia."

Illumia gives me a hard stare. I can tell she wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole. "The boy, Fresca," she answers coldly. "Or I won't help."

"Oh, very well, Illumia. Whatever you want," Fresca sighs, only looking down for a few seconds before perking back up. "Time for lunch, darlings." He claps his hands twice and ushers us to a table that's been polished within an inch of its life. Within minutes, it's filled with fancy dishes that I've never seen before. Fresca names them as we fill our plates, and most of them are fish. I pick at the food, the encounter with Robert still on my mind.

"Now, I have to ask," Fresca says brightly. "Which year of the Games did you like the best?" He looks at Vilhem and me with a smile, waiting for us to regale him.

"Haven't lived in a home since I was six," Vilhem answers, his mouth full of food. "Can't watch the Games with no screen." He goes back to tucking into the rich food, so Fresca looks at me.

"I uhh…" I try to think of an excuse, that has nothing to do with me unhooking the power wires to my television when the Games are on, which is the only thing I know how to do when it comes to electronics. "I have my duties with the turbines, so I've only seen bits of the Games for the past few years. My brothers always give me updates though," I add quickly, to smooth it over.

"That's man's work," Illumia mutters while picking up her glass. "You shouldn't be working the turbines. Unless there's a reason you do." She sips her wine, staring out the windows of the train instead of looking at me. The original reason I took the turbine job was to have a place for Robert and me to sleep together. I was just a fill-in, while the original keeper was sick. Then the keeper died from influenza, and I was outcast, so the job became permanent. No doubt Illumia thinks I kept it so I can continue my whoring.

"Leave her alone, Illumia," Benedict says, finally speaking. His voice is deep and gentle, and he has an accent similar to the Capital inflection. Illumia humphs, but before she can retort, Vilhem bends under the table and throws up all the food he just inhaled.

"Oh my GOD, these are my new shoes!" Fresca shrieks, jumping up from his seat, his hands fluttering around his face. "You little savage!" Illumia grumbles something under her breath while getting up and grabbing a green-faced Vilhem off of the floor.

I angrily drop my fork onto my full plate and glare at Fresca. "What is wrong with you? Vilhem hasn't had a real meal in six years, and when the first real one he gets makes him sick, all you care about is your shoes! I'd treat him nicer if I were you, or he might just rewire your stupid light bulb suit to electrocute you." Even sick, Vilhem manages a slight giggle at my words. Fresca huffs at me before stomping out of the car yelling for the steward, and a few minutes later, an attendant rushes in quickly and removes the rug that was under the table.

"I'll take the boy to his room," Illumia says before leaving too, dragging Vilhem behind her. I turn back to the table after the train doors close and see Benedict struggling not to smile, but one creeps up anyway.

"I don't think I've ever seen a tribute stand up to Illumia and Fresca before," he says, his mouth curving in the most bewitching smile ever. With his jacket off, I can see he's got muscles underneath his shirt. Lean muscles on his slender frame, as opposed to thick ones on beefy guys like Robert. "You're ogling me," Benedict says, with only a hint of chastisement.

"Sorry, sorry." To my horror, I'm starting to blush. "I was trying to place your accent. It's different from the Capital's."

"My grandparents came from a place called Brittany," he says, swishing his wine around in his glass. "Before Panem, the world was much larger. There were dozens of countries. War happened, and most of the other countries were sunk underwater. The population of the world was reduced drastically, so everyone came here, and they called the new country Panem." He looks out the windows past my head. "The people soon realized their new government of Panem was forcing them into slavery, so they did what was always done before. They rebelled."

"War. Terrible war," I say sarcastically, mimicking the film we watch every year at the Reaping.

He smirks, still watching the countryside go past the windows. "I have a question, Elena." I'm surprised he remembers my name. "It's clear that District 5 chose Vilhem because he's a pickpocket and a thief. I only know that because he's stolen from my home and my pocket before. But you," he says while turning to look at me. "I know nothing of you. Why does District 5 think you should die in the Games?" He doesn't say, 'Why does District 5 think you can win?' like anyone else would. He knows better.

I look down at my plate, still full of fish and rice, and continue pushing it around and around the expensive china. "Do you think a non-virgin woman is worthless, Benedict?"

He doesn't answer for a few minutes. "No," he says quietly. "No, I do not."

My gaze travels up to meet his light grey eyes. "District 5 does."

He stares at me, his eyes travelling up and down my face. "So the religious zealots tossed you out, did they?"

"I've lived on my own for four years. My parents disowned me." I look down again and study the color of my wild rice. I can't look at him without feeling my body start to respond.

"And what of the man who tarnished your reputation?"

I scowl at Benedict. "I don't want to talk about him."

"So he didn't share your punishment, I gather," Benedict says, not taking the hint. He picks up his knife and repeatedly stabs a wheat roll he didn't eat.

"I said change the subject," I say, trying to be calm.

He doesn't look at me, still stabbing away. "I bet the entire District treats him like you were the one who corrupted him." In a flash of fury from Benedict's words, I leap up, grab his knife, and slide forward onto the table to put it at his throat. "It seems we have a temper," he says quietly, almost smiling at me. I scowl again, but my retort is cut short by him grabbing me and pulling me into his lap. I try to pull away, but he locks me to him, and now my torso and crotch is pressed up against his. I'm pretty sure that's not a gun I feel.

Illumia chooses that moment to walk into the car, and with a gasp, she exclaims, "Good heavens, I leave for five minutes and she seduces you? Really, Benedict! You should be more careful." His hands loosen and I get up, now brimming with anger at Illumia's words and forgetting my arousal at being pressed against Benedict. He's silent, so I turn and start to leave the car. As I pass Illumia, she mutters under her breath, "It's a wonder she hasn't been knocked up with a whole army of babies."

I freeze, my throat thickens, and I can barely resist the urge to strangle her. Before tears can make an appearance, I leave.

-i-


	4. Ch4: Distracting

Benedict is based off of Benedict Cumberbatch, in case no one caught that ;) Sorry I took so long, I got distracted watching Korean and Japanese tv

-i-

I try to skip teatime, but am denied the privilege.

"No staying in your room," Illumia barks at me outside my door. "We'll be in the Capital before the afternoon is over, so put on something decent and get out here." I search for a bikini, just to spite her, but only find outfits that would please Juline. No doubt it's Illumia's doing.

I find a simple white dress that has buttons up to my neck and undo the top ones all the way down to past my cleavage. My bra shows, which is what I wanted, and I fold the excess material under to make the new neckline a plunging v.

The dining car is bustling with noise as I march in proudly and take a seat at the table. Illumia spills some of her wine when she sees my neckline, so I smile warmly at her. Take that, Miss Prude. I wonder if she won the Games by slapping everyone for misbehaving. Vilhem looks better, less green anyway, and this time isn't stuffing himself. He's even using a fork, to my surprise. Before I can take a bite of whatever delicious food is on my plate, the train goes into a cave.

"Mercy," Fresca mutters. "I didn't realize how close we were!" He gets up and calls the steward. "Dinner is over, we're here."

Vilhem and I jump up and look out the large windows. The white Capital buildings are all we can see, the sun catching them just right. Fresca gathers us up and we exit the train into a huge crowd of Capital citizens. They're dressed in the normal getups, but I can tell neon is the trend right now. They're yelling and screaming at Vilhem and me. Peacekeeper security keeps them from grabbing us. We're led to what is supposed to be another motorcar that will take us to the Center, but instead we're greeted by a bald man wearing designer yellow neon tight pants.

"District 5?" he says with a mix of smug and boredom. The smug is probably the designer pants talking.

"Yes, yes. Where's our car?" Fresca asks, looking around for it as if it's hiding around the corner.

"There was a problem with it. You'll have to walk to the Center. This street is cleared of citizens, so just follow the sidewalk." He turns and forgets about us.

Illumia shrugs. "Oh well, it's only three miles. Let's get going." She starts to walk down the sidewalk, Fresca and Vilhem tight on her heels. Benedict takes five steps before he realizes I'm not moving. The other three don't turn, or just don't notice.

"Problem?" he asks quietly. I debate whether to tell him about my leg. He's my mentor, he should know, but I don't want him to think I'm weak. I shake my head and catch up with him. As we walk, I hear him breathing, smell his scent, see his loose brown curls bounce when he takes a step. Okay, I'm attracted to him. Time to admit it. I sure picked a lousy time to like someone, since I'm going to die in less than three weeks. "You're limping," he says, interrupting my thoughts. "We've only walked a half mile and you're limping."

I finally notice that my leg has gone numb and the dull pain that accompanies the numbness is creeping up on me. My leg has morphed into a heavy block of wood. "So it has," I say lightly.

He grabs my arm and makes me sit down on the curb. "There's no one around to hear. Tell me what happened."

"About three years ago-"

"Short version, darling," he says with a sigh of boredom.

"I hurt my foot, I walked ten miles, and ever since then my leg hurts and feels like dead weight if I walk too much."

He sighs. "If I had six months, I could help you." He doesn't speak, he just stares off into the sky for five minutes.

It's too quiet. "What are you thinking about?" I ask, only to break the buzz in my ears.

"Hush. I'm trying to think up your strategy. Don't distract me with your words or your body." He continues looking at the mountains as if he hadn't just said that. My cheeks flame and I bring my knees up to my chest to feel less exposed. It doesn't work. The noise of a car makes us both look up. A peacekeeper drives it, and Fresca is sitting in the back seat. Benedict grabs my arm and makes me face him. "Not a word about your leg, Elena. You will tell no one, do you understand?" I nod, so he shoves me towards the car.

Fresca is huffing when we get inside. "Where have you two been? Mano is beside himself waiting for you to get there!"

Benedict looks annoyed, which is a popular look when he's around other people. "I'm not walking three miles, Fresca. Do you know how much these shoes cost me?" That makes me stop and look at him, since he doesn't seem to be the kind of man who cares about that. He puts a finger to his lips to tell me to zip it.

As soon as the car stops, Fresca drags me out and into the building. There I'm brought into the stylist room, which is empty except for my team, who all look like they've been waiting for ten hours. They begin the process of waxing me, washing me, and fussing over my hair. They put my head into a machine and press a few buttons. Before I can start to panic, I'm out again, and they start ooing and aahing over my hair. I'm handed a mirror, and there it is. My hair is blonde.

I shriek and almost throw the mirror. "What did you do to me?"

One of them, a woman who has a man's voice, fluffs a strand of my ruined hair. "Oh sweetie," she says brightly. "You have such nice tanned skin; this blonde really makes you look great!"

I fume while they finish. They take me to see Mano, my stylist, who also fusses over me, and declares I should wear something exciting for the parade. I'm pretty sure exciting means "crazy different." I'm too exhausted to care what he's planning. He directs me to the elevator and presses the button for floor 5 before stepping back out. I ride up to my floor alone, wishing this was something I could just wake up from. It doesn't feel like I'm going to die within three weeks.

I step into the District 5 rooms and see everyone but Vilhem at the table drinking wine. My stylist team is there, examining their eye bags in tiny mirrors. Illumia sees me and gives me a once over.

"Well….hmm…." That's all I get. She turns back and ignores me. I don't have the strength to flip her off. Somehow I find myself glancing at Benedict's direction, and his gaze makes my face flush. I'm pretty sure the look on his face means that whatever the stylists did made me look more attractive. Maybe I won't electrocute them.

Fresca gives me a huge smile. "Oh I love your new hair! You'll look fabulous at the parade! We only have a few hours before you need to get dressed!" All of the tributes leave their districts at the same time, so the closer districts always have time on their hands before the parade. I smile half-heartedly at him and somehow get to the living room before I collapse on the floor.

A few minutes later, I see Benedict's shoes in front of my head. "I like your hair," he says quietly. I look up and he's sipping wine while gazing out the window. I silently wish that he would stop making my heart beat so fast. He looks down at me and gives me a small smile. "You look like you need some sleep." I almost start to say something nice back, but then he adds, "You look like hell." My mouth pops open in shock and I angrily bring my arm up to slam my fist into his leg. He looks down at his calf and then back to me, like I hadn't even bruised him. "Well, strength isn't your fine point, I'm guessing." I scowl at him and flip him off with both hands. He laughs at me while sipping more wine. Ass.

"Get up off the floor, tribute," Illumia barks at me as she walks into the room. She's already forgotten my name, or just doesn't want to use it.

"Illumia, butt out. I told you she's not your concern, and I don't want to hear another word about it," Benedict says sternly. I almost get happy, but then I remember he's an ass, so I just stare at the carpet fibers. I don't remember falling asleep on the floor, but in the middle of examining the carpet, my eyes close, and then I wake up to Benedict's shoe on my arm. "You snore, wake up. Mano is waiting for you."

I glare at him through a curtain of my hair. "Do you morph into an asshole when you get to the Capital?"

"I have a reason for my behavior, but it's none of your business." He examines his nails and kicks my arm again. "Get up and go see Mano." I narrow my eyes at him while I stand up, and try unsuccessfully to shove him off the couch. He puts his hand on my stomach and holds me at arms distance. "Remember what I said about not distracting me with your body. Stop touching me and go." He gives me a quick unenthusiastic smile.

I huff at him and stomp off to the elevator. I fume the whole way to Mano's room. Why is Benedict being so mean to me? Why do I care? He acted a little nice on the train. Maybe he was just making conversation. Only, I'm pretty sure his erection wasn't from making conversation. Judging from his current attitude, that will never happen again.

Mano and my stylist team greet me with all smiles. I try to be polite, even though I don't remember their names. They prattle on about past tributes while they do my hair and makeup. I don't hear them, since Benedict is all I can think of. I'm in the middle of putting curse words to his name when Mano brings out my dress.

"This year, I thought we'd do something wild!" he says happily. My stylist team claps for him, congratulating him on his genius work, telling him how it really captures District 5. In Mano's hand is a simple dress with three battery powered spinning turbine blades attached to the back.

Oh hell no.

-i-


	5. Ch5: In my skivvies

-i-

Unfortunately, Mano only has one outfit that's my size, so I'm forced to go into the chariot room looking ridiculous. I walk past the other tributes and hear titters.

Mano is beside himself with joy. "You just look so incredible, my dear! I've really outdone myself with your outfit! I've never been so proud of my skills!" I have to force myself to not cry when the room starts to fill with giggles and people whispering to each other. Mano hands me the battery pack and switches the turbines on. They start rotating at a medium speed, and the room erupts in laughter.

Anger fills me as I step onto my chariot. Back home I was the source of everyone's gossip. Everyone knew who I was, and everyone loved to poke fingers at me when I was seen in town. They talked in whispers, and looked at me like I was a disease they didn't want to get near enough to catch. Now with every other tribute laughing at me, whispering about me, all I can feel is anger. I'd taken the scorn in District 5 like I was worthy of it. I'd also sat and taken Benedict's attitude.

I wasn't anyone's bitch.

Vilhem joins me on the chariot, dressed in an equally stupid costume that looks like a power plant. He smiles at me, and is immediately hit in the face with one of the turbines. I make a loud frustrated noise, and just as our chariots start to move, I rip off the costume and enter the street wearing matching flesh colored underthings. I stare back at the mass of people with my back straight and proud. I will not be my stylist's puppet and wear a ridiculous costume. I'm tired of letting people do and say whatever they want.

The banner screens show me standing there in my unmentionables. I look pretty good. Vilhem is giggling as he waves to the people, but I can tell he's only laughing at the shock I'm creating. The crowd screams and cheers my name. I don't look at them. I stare straight forward like they're not worth my attention. Panem's anthem blares all around, and we reach the end of the street. President Abnar Snow is standing on the mansion balcony to greet us.

"Greetings tributes. This year of the 25th annual Hunger Games, you are all standing before me because your district chose you. Whether it was because they believed you could win, or just wanted you to shine, we salute your courage and your sacrifice. Happy Hunger Games, and during this year of the quarter quell, may the odds be ever in your favor." He waves to us and smiles, like he's our loving grandfather about to send us off with love and cookies.

Our chariots move and take us back to the long holding room. I'm frozen in place, my courage depleted. I can't make out what anyone says around me, all I can think is how foolish I have just been. I feel someone help me down from the chariot and hold me against their chest.

"Don't cry," Benedict whispers in my ear. "I promise I'll let you cry later, just not right now. Stay strong, or I'll tell everyone about your leg. Let's see how long you last in the arena after that." He puts me at arm's length and acts like he hadn't just held me. I shove his hand away and cross my arms over my chest, angry at him again. He smiles, but says nothing while I seethe to myself and call him an asshole in my head.

"You had to go out there in your skivvies, didn't you?" Illumia has Vilhem under her grasp, and is giving me the most evil glare ever. "You can't be content to wear clothing like respectable people. It's no wonder you're here."

Benedict starts to tell her off, but I interrupt him. "Oh lay off me, Illumia," I say, surprising everyone around me, including myself. Benedict and Vilhem grin while Illumia's mouth pops open.

"You heard her, Illumia. You tend to your tribute and leave mine alone," Benedict says coolly. She huffs off with Vilhem as my knees start shaking. Benedict notices and takes my wrist to march me to the apartment, walking us past Mano who is mourning the turbine dress. I get another evil eye from him and the stylist team.

Benedict is silent as we ride the elevator, and keeps my wrist in his hand. My entire body is shaking now. The doors open and Benedict walks me straight to what I assume is my room. He goes in with me and as the door closes, he brings me back to his chest. He smells like the musk of a man's skin, and it's intoxicating. My fingers grasp the front of his wool jacket while I try not to smell him. I work the fabric in my hands to help calm myself down. It takes me about ten minutes to stop trembling, and when I do, Benedict pulls me away to look at my face.

"What was going through your head, little girl?" He says little girl with affection, and it gives me the courage to tell him.

"Mano had the most ridiculous dress for me to wear, with spinning turbines. Everyone was laughing at me, and whispering about me. I remembered everyone in District 5 whispering about me, and how I had always just bowed my head and taken it. I even let you say rude things, and barely complained. I just got tired of letting people do and say whatever they wanted, and always ignoring my own feelings. Of taking everything like a little bitch." I release a big breath, and feel exhausted suddenly.

Benedict grins the grin that keeps making my heart beat faster. "There she is," he says happily, and dare I say relieved. "There's the woman I saw on the train. The woman who wouldn't let me say whatever I wanted. The proud woman that wasn't an ashamed little girl." He pushes some of my hair behind my ears and smooths it. "No matter what you've done, never apologize. Don't take anyone's shit. Have no guilt, no shame, and no regrets. If you're proud of who you are, no one will ever talk to you the way Illumia does. The way District 5 does. They wouldn't dare treat a proud woman the way they treat you." Tears start to fill my eyes, and I can't hold them back. Changing who I am won't be worth it, when I'm going to die soon. "Stop that," he says while shaking my shoulders, making me open my eyes and look up at him. "This isn't what I usually tell my tributes, but don't you dare accept the possibility that you're going to die. You keep fighting until the end, whether it's in three weeks, or three thousand weeks. Fight for yourself, do you hear me? You promise me you won't give up."

I nod and wipe my cheeks. "I promise I won't give up."

He smooths my hair again, almost like he's fussing over me, then he steps away. "Now stop sniveling."

I scowl and look him dead in the face. "Don't tell me what to do, Benedict."

"That-a girl," he says happily, patting my arm. We smile at each other and I'm hit with a huge whiff of his scent. Right before I can get embarrassed at being turned on, the door opens and in walks Vilhem.

"Illumia disabled my food dispenser," he says quietly, either not noticing our mood or ignoring it. "She gave me a bunch of sa-laad for dinner. I'm still really hungry though…" He trails off, obviously not willing to beg me.

"You're welcome to use mine all you want," I say with a smile, not showing the anger I feel at Illumia. He cheers and runs over to order five plates of food, which he carries back to his room.

Benedict starts to leave after him, but turns back. "Even if they laugh at you tomorrow, remember what I told you."

"No guilt, no shame, no regrets. I got it," I say with a grin.

"There's one more thing." His face looks serious, but his mouth twitches like he's holding back a smile. "If I hear you snoring from my room, you won't live to see the Games."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What was that you said just now? Something about not taking people's shit?"

"I didn't say anything about mine." He smiles slightly, and I realize he's flirting with me. Bad, Elena. Flirting with a man when I'm about to be tossed in a death arena. He scowls, somehow reading my thoughts like my brothers always do. "Stop that and go to bed."

I do.

I wake up the next morning to Vilhem ordering more food from my dispenser. I watch him tear into a huge steak.

"Hey." He jumps and turns towards me. "Has it hit you yet? You know, being here? Going into the Games by the end of the week?"

He shakes his head, his mouth full of steak. "I don't want it to," he says around the food. "If it does, I'll remember that all this food will be gone soon, and I'll eat myself sick again."

I sit up. "Isn't there breakfast waiting for us?"

He starts walking out of the open door. "Sure there is, but I wanted to get a snack first."

I shake my head with a smile, and get up. My training outfit is waiting for me. The top is a size too small, and when I put it on, it emphasizes my medium sized chest and the bottom half of my flat stomach is showing. I leave the zipper half un-done so my cleavage shows. I study my reflection in the mirror, and a passing thought makes me wonder if today is special somehow. What's today? I try for five minutes and can't remember.

When I get to the dining room, Vilhem is filling a plate with food and Benedict is sipping coffee at the table. Illumia is absent, which suits me just fine. Fresca, Mano, and my stylist team are sitting in the adjacent living room hooting about something. They see me come in, and Mano starts pouting.

"You didn't wear my beautiful dress, you vixen," he says with a glower.

"That costume was ridiculous, Mano," Benedict says from the table. "You should've dressed her in her lingerie from the start." My cheeks flush, so I hurriedly pick up a plate to get my breakfast before someone notices.

Vilhem elbows me and gives me a wink. "I think Benedict likes what he saw," he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. I give him a quick, 'don't say that where Benedict can hear you,' look, and elbow him back.

"You shouldn't encourage the boy to speak that way," Illumia says while coming up behind me.

I turn to face her. "Or what? I'll corrupt him?" We stare at each other for a few seconds, until she looks away and drops it. I peek over at Benedict. He's giving me the hottest look ever, like he wants to take me right there at the buffet table. I drop my plate in shock, and my breakfast falls onto the floor. Benedict starts snickering to himself as I fumble to pick it up before an Avox comes and stops me. We all eat in silence, and Illumia quickly grabs Vilhem from the table when she's done so she can counsel him before the training begins.

I try not to stare at Benedict, but fail miserably. "So…" I say to break the silence. "What am I focusing on?"

"What are you good at?" he asks while sipping more coffee. I ponder for a few minutes. "Please don't say running."

I scowl at him. "Haha. I'm good with an electricity stick."

"That's not a skill," he says flatly.

"You haven't seen me with one, Mr. Little Faith. I could kick your ass with one. Or, electrocute your ass." I smile sweetly at him.

He studies me for a minute, and I notice his eyes are light grey, something I never caught before. "You'll focus on survival. Stay at that station, and learn everything they teach you. If you see an electricity stick, don't touch it. If I find out you did, you will regret it." For some odd reason, his serious tone arouses me.

I salute him sarcastically. "You got it, mentor."

-i-

Vilhem and I walk into the training room that afternoon, and everyone stops talking to stare at us. I hear giggling again, so I stare back at everyone until it stops. Our instructors tell us not to fight with each other, and to attempt to try every booth. When they give us leave, I walk straight to the survival station. The instructor yawns and waves me over to the supplies. There's a book with pictures of berries and other edible plants with bowls of examples next to it. A sign on the table says, 'To see poisonous plants, please ask instructor.'

I look back at the instructor and point to the sign. "Why don't you have the poisonous plants out?"

He looks at me like I'm a fly in his ear. "We can't have the tributes dying before the Games." How considerate.

I take the book and sit down against the wall to study it. Around the room the other tributes are throwing knives, shooting arrows, climbing trees. I see Vilhem walk over to the electronics booth and disable all of the devices at the booth in ten seconds. Illumia obviously didn't tell him to keep his talents a secret. I study for the rest of the day and ignore Vilhem when he asks me to go try the shiny knives with him. We're dismissed and sent back to our rooms. Benedict and Illumia are waiting for us when we get back.

"Elena sat and read a book all day," Vilhem complains. "I wanted her to help me throw knives!"

"She's not your playmate," Illumia snaps at him. She grabs his shoulder and marches him to his room.

"My ass hurts from sitting all day," I grump to Benedict.

"You'll thank me, little girl," he says with a smile. I almost don't get turned on by my nickname that time. Almost. The next day passes the same way, and I give Benedict the evil eye at the dinner table for my sore butt. He responds with a smile while putting asparagus in his mouth.

"So," I ask him after Illumia and Vilhem leave. "What am I showing the judges tomorrow? I practically memorized the poisonous plants book word for word, but I don't think that's impressive."

"What would you prefer to do? Have them release rodents for you to electrocute?" He snickers and I punch his arm. "Just eat all the right plants," he says simply. "Show them you have the courage to pick the right ones." I glare at him with my mouth open. He reaches over and pushes my chin up. "Don't look so shocked. I'm showing faith in your skills, little girl."

"Really?" I smile at him.

"Yes, really. I mean, there's probably only a twenty percent chance of you returning after the evaluation, but that's not so bad." He smiles sweetly at me, so I tackle him to the floor.

"You are such an ass," I say while grabbing his head and wrestling him. The wrestling turns into an embrace as his arms go around me and he holds me tight. His scent hits my nostrils. It starts to turn me on, so I instantly stop moving.

"Just be still for a few minutes," he says quietly. I relax and find myself stroking his loose brown curls. "No matter what they say, no matter what score you get, you promised you wouldn't give up, right?" I nod. He nuzzles my sleeve and I feel his breath on my arm. My body starts to notice the hardness of his lean muscles. I curse I'm not in the right position to see if there's something else hard. "We shouldn't be doing this," he says gently, his arms holding me tighter.

I swallow a lump in my throat. "I know."

"When morning comes, it will have never happened. Right?" I nod again and hold his head closer. I know why he's acting this way. My imminent death has hit him, and whether he likes me as a woman or just as a friend, it's clear that the realization isn't setting well with him. I don't ponder what losing him would do to me. We lie there for hours until we both fall asleep.

-i-


	6. Ch6: The Seductress awakens

AN: If you're reading, I would appreciate reviews! It helps me know what people like, and if I should keep going or not! If you have reviewed already, kudos :)

-i-

I wake up to the smell of coffee, lying alone on the carpet. I open my eyes to see Vilhem's face in front of me.

"Why'd you sleep on the carpet?" he asks, smiling widely.

I sit up and look around before answering. "I just…." Benedict isn't in the main rooms. I feel foolish as I get up. "I just felt like it," I say in disappointment.

"Illumia and Benedict are still sleeping. Fresca said we should just go to the evaluation alone," Vilhem says while grabbing something from the breakfast buffet. "We're already almost late." I gasp and grab something to snack on before taking Vilhem's elbow and running to the elevator. He laughs to himself as we rush into the waiting room and find it full of the other tributes. I ignore them all and find a place to sit on the floor.

We wait and wait for at least an hour before my name is called. I get up and walk into the training room. The velvet balcony is occupied with fancy looking Capital gentlemen. They look me over and talk amongst themselves.

"Elena Flint, District 5," I say to them, with my voice echoing in the empty room. There's a table waiting for me, probably Benedict's doing, with two bowls: one empty, and one full of mixed vegetation. Berries, nuts, roots, and no indication of their safety for consumption. I glance nervously up at the judges and find them watching me a little more intently. They probably know what I'm about to do. I picture Benedict's face and the way his arms felt last night. It energizes me to start. I pick up the items one by one and examine them. The poisonous ones, I put in an empty dish. The regular ones, I eat. When I'm done, I straighten up and see all of the judges staring at me.

"I hope you're not going to keel over now," one says, his face plastered with disbelief. "It would be very bad for the Games if one of the contestants died before it starts."

"What was your mentor thinking," another asks in outrage.

One man gets up, and I slightly recall that he's the gamemaker. "Let her be, gentlemen. She's just shown merit and courage. However, I agree with them, Elena Flint. It was too risky. Please be on your way." He waves me away and sits back down. I race back to the rooms and bump into someone when the elevator opens to my floor. I see that it's Benedict, and I realize I'm crying.

"They didn't approve?" he asks blankly. I shake my head and he sighs. "Doesn't matter. Stop crying. The scores will be insignificant if we have a good interview." He hands me a handkerchief. "We're not watching the announcement. We're working on your interview right now." He takes my wrist and walks me across the apartment to his room. I start to feel awkward being there, but he plunks me onto his couch and sits next to me. "Now, Elena, you have to take this seriously." I nod, sadly noting that he's all business now, like last night didn't happen. "Pretend I'm AJ Sweetbottom," he says brightly, already starting to imitate AJ's jolly demeanor. "Elena, you just look so beautiful tonight! I bet you had to beat the other tributes off with a stick!" He hoots just like AJ Sweetbottom, which is so different from Benedict's normal behavior, I can't stop laughing at him. "Stop laughing, little girl," he says as himself. "If you laugh, people will think you're a giggling idiot."

"Then stop imitating him, it's too funny," I say with a giggle, trying to stop laughing.

"Fine, fine. Alright, so, Elena Flint, what's life like for you in District 5?" He grins at me, only lightly imitating AJ so I won't laugh.

"I live in a turbine."

He rolls his eyes. "That's boring. Try again." I rack my brain for a good answer for a few minutes. Benedict suddenly grabs my shoulders and makes me face him. "Forget about AJ Sweetbottom. Picture me as your interviewer." He gives me a dashing grin. "What's life like in District 5, little girl?" I blush and fumble my words, making him roll his eyes. He takes my face so I have to look into his eyes. "Play with me, Elena. Picture that I'm your lover. Forget about being embarrassed, and play." He lets me go and waits for me to answer.

I take a deep breath and push my embarrassment away. "Life in District 5?" He nods, still waiting for me to wow him. I lean into him and stroke his cheek with one finger. "It's cold," I say with a pouty seductive voice.

"Cold?" he asks, his throat swallowing nervously, clearly shocked at my behavior.

"There's no one like you to warm me up at night," I reply, giving him a seductive smile.

He quickly shuts his eyes and turns away from me. "Where the HELL did this seductress come from? Don't answer that. Just give me a minute." I straighten back up and wait for him to get in control of himself. He groans a few times like he's holding back saying something, then sighs and turns back. "You will act just like that during the interview. No complaining."

"I most certainly will not try to seduce AJ Sweetbottom," I say in outrage.

"Not him, you ninny. You will seduce the Capital. They'll be fighting to be your sponsors. If you mess up, you won't get any, do you understand?"

I nod to him. "I'll make love to the Capital, just for you, Benedict." I plant a kiss on his cheek and he lightly shoves me away.

"None of that." He gets up and gets a glass of water from the food dispenser. I silently mourn the loss of his openness. It's not fair of me to expect him to be attached to me. I will probably die soon. He sits back down and sips his water. "I don't like being cold to you, Elena," he says quietly.

I stare at the carpet. "I understand why you are. Don't feel bad." His glass of water suddenly hits my face.

"You've stopped fighting. I told you not to, Elena," he says in outrage while I cough and wipe the water off my face. "Tell me to stop being a bastard and slap me."

"Is it always going to be like this with you?" I ask.

He snickers and answers, "Correct."

-i-

Benedict evidently told everyone to not tell me my score, so I walk into the stylist room not knowing. Mano dresses me in a low cut slinky red dress, and in half an hour, transforms me into a seductress. My blonde hair is tussled like I was just tussled in bed, and my lips are bright shiny red. Mano sees the end product and decides he likes me again. I join Vilhem and the other tributes to wait for my turn. The male tributes all notice me and look me over the way Robert used to when he wanted me.

Robert. I'd forgotten all about him. I grin as I picture what his face will look like when he sees me on the screens. I bet he'll wish he could get a handie right then and there. Vilhem nudges me to move forward. I look down at him and see he's dressed to look adorable. I lightly tug one of his red curls and he bats me away. It's weird that he and I get along so well. I always thought tributes ignored each other. I try to not remember that one of us, if not both, will be dead soon. Twenty minutes pass, and it's my turn. I gather up my courage and walk out swinging my hips, giving the audience the most seductive look I can. AJ Sweetbottom's mouth drops when he sees me.

"Elena Flint from District 5," he says, remembering to introduce me. "That's some dress you're wearing, Elena." He smiles good-naturedly.

"You should see it on the floor," I say with a knowing grin.

He directs me to sit down. "I have to ask you, if you don't mind." I nod. "In a normal day, how often would that frock end up on the floor?"

I smile roguishly and cross my leg over the other. "That all depends on who I'm entertaining."

He laughs a few times, and his big belly wiggles. "So what happened with your costume at the parade? I'm pretty sure your stylist planned for you to wear something else. Not that we're complaining about what you wore." He winks.

I look up like I'm remembering, and then make the naughtiest look I've got. "He had another costume for me. I just didn't have time to put it back on."

AJ makes a comical face like I've said something shocking. "I see," he says. He leans forward and cups his hand to his mouth like he's telling a secret, even though it's towards the audience so they can hear. "So, I'm guessing it also looked good on the floor?"

I laugh a little and playfully bat his arm. "You're so bad, Mr. Sweetbottom. A lady doesn't kiss and tell." I give him a roughish grin.

"I'm sure you don't, Elena," he says in a mischievous tone, laughing and jiggling once more. He takes my hand and kisses it, then stands me up. "Elena Flint, ladies and gentlemen." I curtsey low to the crowd, even though I don't have to, so my cleavage is out and proud. The audience roars with applause while I wiggle my fingers at them and leave. Vilhem gives me a thumbs up and I sashay past the other tributes with a hand on my hip. All of them are staring at me; the boys are turned on, the girls are fuming. Everyone is waiting for me in the next room, but I only see Benedict. His face says it all.

I've done it.

Illumia is pouting because she can't berate me about it, and Fresca is beside himself with glee. Even Mano and the stylist team are excited. Benedict takes my arm and we leave the room. He doesn't speak until we're in the elevator.

"That was incredible, Elena," he says, his admiration sincere instead of sarcastic.

"Did you like it?" I ask timidly. The seductress has left, and I'm regular Elena again.

He shakes his head. "It's not important if I liked it. I want to know if you liked it. You didn't seem uncomfortable on stage, but now you're blushing."

"I hated acting that way," I say firmly. "The audience doesn't need to know if I'm sleeping with someone." I bang my back against the elevator. "I only want to act that way with my lover. Only someone I love and who loves me should see me make those faces."

"Then why did you do it," he asks, as if he wasn't the one who had ordered me to.

"To get sponsors and win," I answer simply.

"And why do you want to win, Elena Flint," he asks, imitating AJ again.

I face him and stand up tall. "To prove that I'm worth something." The elevator doors open, but he stands there and stares at me like he's trying to figure me out. We stare at each other for a minute, then he pushes me gently into the apartment and follows me to my door. I almost think he might him come inside with me, but then I discard the idea. I smile at him, and turn to open my door. He takes my chin so I have to look at him.

"Go to bed, little girl," he says gently. My heart speeds up at my nickname. He opens my door and gives me another light push inside, then closes it. I hear him say through the door, "Lock your door. If you don't, I might lose control and find out what that dress looks like on the carpet." I click the lock and hear his footsteps leaving, then click it back. My eyes start to burn, and I allow myself to collapse on the floor and cry. I cry until my heart is empty, and I've put away everything I feel for Benedict. It can't become a distraction in the arena. I fall asleep curled up in my doorway.

The next morning, it's like we're all going to a funeral. Everyone is silent, no one speaks. My stylist team leaves without saying goodbye. Illumia takes Vilhem and leaves with them. Benedict sips his coffee and stares out the window while I pick at my breakfast.

"Eat it all. You don't know when you'll be eating next." I don't have the strength to argue with him.

"Benedict?" He mumbles into his cup instead of answering me. "Why won't you tell me my score?" I know Vilhem had gotten a seven, but no one will answer me when I ask about mine.

"You don't need to know it." I start to complain and he waves me quiet. "If it's higher, you'll think you don't have to try. If it's low, you'll give up. If…." He stops. "…when you come back, I'll tell you what it is. Now keep eating." After I've finished, he gets up and takes my hand in his. The contact sends electric sparks up my arm. He walks us to the elevator, his thumb stroking my hand in a steady rhythm on the way to the bottom floor, slowly calming me down. We get out of the elevator and walk down a long hallway to go outside.

My turbine necklace, the one my brothers made for me, bounces on my chest. I'd forgotten all about it until I woke up in my bed this morning. It was around my neck, and my pillow had smelled like Benedict's hair. We reach the outside door and when we step outside, Benedict stops moving. I grip his hand tight, and he grips mine back.

I might love this man.

The realization hits me, and I turn to look at him. He cups my face with his other hand, and leans in. His lips meet mine, and my chest explodes with warmth. I kiss him back hungrily, fully knowing this may be my last kiss. I push my body against his and hold his neck to keep him on my lips. His tongue pushes into my mouth, making my skin burn in arousal. He tastes just like smells, and I'm instantly intoxicated. We both pull away at the same moment, but he keeps our foreheads touching.

"Carry that with you," he says softly, his breathing ragged. He strokes my hair and I feel a tear land on my cheek. "Carry it in your heart, and show them what you're made of, my precious Elena." He gives me one last squeeze and shoves me away. Before I can say goodbye, he's gone back into the building. I almost cry. If I hadn't cried last night, I would be on my knees. I sigh deeply to get myself under control, turn, then march straight to the hovercraft and to my new destiny.

-i-


	7. Ch7: In the Arena

Note: This is before Careers were around. I always wanted to see what it's like on the other side of the arena, so Benedict will share the narrative now sometimes.

-i-

Elena

-i-

I'm still rubbing my arm where the tracking device was put in when I'm led by peacekeepers to the room where I will enter the arena. Mano is waiting for me, and has even managed to have a few tears in his eyes.

"They left this for you to wear," he says, sniffling loudly and gesturing to the clothing rack. I change into clothes I would wear when it's raining outside. Mano gives me a small hug and puts my raincoat hood up. A woman's voice tells us we have thirty seconds. I walk over to the plastic shoot and step in. Thirty seconds is a lifetime. I picture my brothers, and Benedict. Snippets of my life flash in my head. The cherry tree that's behind my turbine house, a memory I try to forget. Gin and Spark wrestling with me. Wrestling with Benedict, which is less innocent. Robert's lips on mine. Benedict's lips on mine. The two kisses are infinitely different. The cherry tree comes back. I shove it away. Finally, the shoot starts to move and I'm lifted into the arena.

It's raining lightly in a pine forest, and the other tributes are in a circle around a metal cornucopia. The countdown on the cornucopia slowly goes down. There are backpacks and other stuff littered on the forest floor, one backpack being really close to me. The cornucopia has oodles of weapons inside. For the first time, I notice the other tributes. Half are weak looking, like their districts chose the voting process to get rid of the riffraff, as mine did. The other half are moderately strong, and I guess that they're from the richer districts. I look for Vilhem and don't see him.

The countdown is done and everyone starts moving. The weaker kids run away, the stronger ones decide to duke it out at the cornucopia and fight over all the weapons inside it. I grab the backpack and go running in the other direction. As soon as I don't see anyone around, I stop and sit next to some bushes to rest my left leg. It's beginning to burn and prickle with pain from the run. I imagine Benedict watching me on the screen and try to keep my face blank.

Half an hour has passed when the cannons start. Six dead.

-i-

Benedict

-i-

Elena is on the big screen. I can tell her leg is hurting from running at the cornucopia, but she's trying to hide it, most likely for my sake. She bitched about my instructions for the training days, and now her sitting around has paid off. If she had gone to the other booths, her limp would've been noticed by the other tributes. We kept the secret well, even though she had no idea that's what I was doing. If we hadn't, she would've been picked off first. She's safe for the moment, as no one came after her when the countdown ended. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Countless men begin to chatter in my ears about her, and I wave them all away. Do not distract me from her, I want to shout to them. I hold my tongue. They'll be of use if she needs help. She sits next to some bushes for over an hour. I feel like yelling at her, and I would if she was here. Get up and look for water, stop sitting around and waiting for someone to come kill you. I clench my jaw when I picture her being killed. I promised myself as I lay with her last night that I would make the winner's life hell if he or she is the one who kills my Elena. It's not like me to get so attached to a tribute. Illumia and Fresca have both come to me and questioned my actions in the past days. I told them to leave me be.

After her interview, I knew she'd have all the sponsors she would need to survive, and I knew she would come back to me. Then she told me she wanted to win because she wanted to prove her worth. At that moment, I made a choice on how to handle her during the Games. I only hope she doesn't end up dead because of it.

My father died in the rebellion, and my mother's soul died with him. She always told me that once in a lifetime someone comes along who you fit perfectly in every aspect. You would kill to keep them, and if you ever lost them, your soul would waste away to nothing. I never believed that was really true, I always assumed my mother was just slightly insane. And then I met Elena, and my mother's words became true. Whether it was meant to happen so fast, or if it was the ever present reminder that she could be dead soon, I know I've already fallen in love with her. My soul is tied to hers now, and if the Games take her, they'll take me as well.

-i-

Elena

-i-

My limbs are stiff from sitting for a few hours. It's still steadily misting, but I'm used to it since my turbines are by the sea. There's almost always a mist there. It's comforting in an odd way, to have that in the arena. It's like I'm back home. My backpack has just regular stuff to survive on: a tarp, a canteen, iodine, flint, and no food. I get up finally when my stomach starts to growl and decide to see if there's any food here. A weapon would be handy right about now. I suddenly see the value in watching the Games every year. I have no idea what to do past getting a weapon and finding water. I almost look around for a camera so I can ask Benedict what to do, but that would be weak of me. I need to do it on my own.

I search for berries, roots, nuts, and find nothing. There's no vegetation that I can find. Then I search for game, although I can't kill it. I find no tracks or scat in the mud. My ears suddenly alert me to the fact that there are no birds making noise. It hits me like a freight train: there's no food in this arena. I collapse on the ground and force myself to forget the cameras for just a few minutes. My leg is burning so badly from walking. My train of thought keeps ending when I try to think hard. The sky slowly gets darker.

"Little girl! Little girl, I told you not to give up!" I hear Benedict's voice next to my head. I open my eyes and see him standing there. The sun has risen, and it's day two in the arena.

"Benedict? How'd you get here?"

"Oh don't be silly, I'm a hunger hallucination," he says, lacking none of the real Benedict's attitude. "Now get that cute ass up and find some food."

"There isn't any," I mumble, trying to get comfy on the ground. I feel a sudden splash of water in my face like when Benedict tossed his cup of water on me.

"I said get up, now do it, Elena!" I grumble and slowly get up. It's raining heavily now, which explains the water in my face. The hallucination of Benedict is gone. I hear six cannons go off throughout the morning at extra volume because of the rain. The other tributes must be busy, I tell myself, and use it as incentive to search harder.

Suddenly, I'm in the cornucopia clearing. The rain is spreading the left-over blood on the grass and the ground looks like someone spilled red sauce everywhere. I stumble over to the cornucopia and find it empty except for a few broken weapons and a fishing net, which I keep. As I turn to leave, I see an electricity rod propped up against the cornucopia wall. The funny thing about them is they look like walking sticks when they extender isn't out, so the tributes probably didn't know what it was. I pick it up and keep moving.

My leg has morphed into a block of wood, and makes me continuously stumble until I trip and fall. I lift myself up on my arms and find in front of me a small pond about five feet wide with fish swimming in it. With full knowledge that I'll get a tongue-lashing from Benedict for doing this, should I survive that is, I do something that could be a little risky. The rods are made so only the extender part has electricity running through it; the rest of the rod keeps you from being electrocuted, even if you stick it in water. And that's exactly what I do. The fish instantly rise to the top dead, but I leave it in the water until the fish have stopped twitching and look cooked. I use the net to fish them out and eat my homemade dinner.

-i-

Benedict

-i-

What the HELL is she doing? The entire room of mentors watches me yell and scream at the television screens as Elena is sticking her electricity rod into a pond. I'd already been biting my nails while she almost starved to death and hallucinated that I was there with her, but now I've gone into a rage that she would do something so risky. I grab everything I can find and start throwing it in a mad frenzy.

"Benedict," Illumia says from behind me.

"WHAT?!" I scream at her, not really caring what she has to say.

"Would you just look at the screen and calm down?" She rolls her eyes and purses her lips in that disapproving way she always does. I look up at the screen and see Elena happily eating cooked fish, not dead, and not electrocuted. My legs give out and I sink to the floor in relief. "Benedict," Illumia says again.

"What is it," I ask, still uninterested in her.

"I've never seen you act this way about a tribute. She will probably die, so just accept it right now and stop this nonsense." The old Benedict would've listened to Illumia. The Benedict that hadn't met Elena would've said the same thing to the Benedict that had lost his soul to her.

"Leave me alone, Illumia. Worry about Vilhem if you need something to do besides boss me around." I busy myself with straightening my collar so no one will see that a few tears of relief escaped.

"You're worrying enough for the entire country. I'm not fussing over the boy. He has no sponsors, so he's already dead." She was right, of course. Somehow it felt wrong to say it, even if I'd been saying it about different tributes for the past fourteen years. Elena would be disappointed in me if I agree that Vilhem is already dead. She likes the boy, they have a kinship since they're the District 5 outcasts. Illumia sees my face and can tell what I'm thinking. "You can't save both of them. Make a choice now. Remember, if you pick him, she'll die, so she can't hate you for not helping her." Illumia has such a way with words.

"You take care of Vilhem so I don't have to. Elena is my priority," I say while getting up and straightening my long jacket.

Illumia has a mock look of surprise. "Really? Then why haven't you sent her any parachutes? You could've helped her already. Did that slutty act not get any sponsors? Has Panem abandoned her?"

"That's none of your business. I won't tell you to help the boy a third time, so leave." If nothing else, at least getting Elena back would mean not having to put up with Illumia's shit every year. That makes me smile.

-i-

Elena

-i-

By that evening, the rain has simmered to a mist, and the death toll rises in the sky. The first death is District 6, so I know Vilhem is still alive if he didn't die the first day. I don't pay attention after that. Before the sun had set, I dug a hole under some bushes for me to lie in and pushed the excess dirt behind me for a pillow. It was a pretty good solution, considering climbing anything was not going to happen. I fall asleep covered with my tarp.

It's raining when I wake up. My legs are stiff, the left one still hurting slightly, but I stay under the bushes and eat two of the four leftover fish before getting up. That's all the pond had, so now I have to go find more food. I start walking and am glad that the rain will cover my tracks. I walked without caring if I was leaving a trail yesterday, so it's a good thing I can't find any traces of my stumbling around.

I'm weak with hunger by the end of the afternoon, unwilling to eat the last two fish in my bag. I can't find any other ponds in the forest. Why haven't I gotten a parachute? I sit down by a tree and force myself to face reality. I most likely didn't get any sponsors, which makes me dead already. I sit there in the rain and my aches from walking all day become more apparent. My limbs are tired, my leg burning, and I feel an overwhelming sense of abandonment. Did Benedict abandon me? Surely if I didn't get sponsors, he could buy me something to eat with his own money. What am I saying…he's not my boyfriend, he doesn't have to provide for me. I have to stop my thoughts and chastise myself for being petty during the Hunger Games.

A tap on my arm makes me scream and jump five feet. Vilhem is standing there brandishing a harpoon, looking like a drowned rat. The rain is too heavy for us to speak, so he gestures that he'll kill me with the harpoon if I use my electricity stick on him. I gesture that I wouldn't do that. He's practically my friend. No, he IS my friend. He smiles at me and gestures that he's hungry. I open my bag and hand him the last of my fish. He tears in happily, and gestures we should keep moving. The rain lets up as I'm led to the cave he slept in last night. It's beside a river that's filled with fish. The fish look identical to the ones I ate last night and this morning. I lean over to look at them closer to make sure.

"Hey," I ask him, waving him to me. "Have you seen any other food besides fish?"

He shakes his head and keeps munching on the fish I gave him. "Nope. I looked everywhere. There's nothing, not even birds here. I even tried to make tea out of the pine needles but they taste gross."

"Looks like it can't be helped," I say while digging into my pack. I find the fishing net and get him to help me capture as many fish as it holds. "Let's go back to the forest, there's more cover there." Vilhem follows me back to the pond and we dump the fish into the water. We watch them swim around for awhile.

"I don't like raw fish," he says, wrinkling his nose up.

I grin happily and take my stick out. "Me neither. Stand back," I say, and brace my feet next to the pond. I press the extender button and the pond is lit up with blue electric currents. Vilhem shrieks while they're cooking and tries to get me to move away. I press the button again and it stops. "Don't worry, I ate them like this last night." I smile at him and bend down to get one for him. He rips it in half and finds it cooked. "It's not that tasty, but starvation tastes even worse."

He laughs. "Benedict should give us some salt."

"Maybe a zest of lemon," I say jokingly, only knowing fish taste good with lemon because of the Capital fare. "Nah, he'd probably just say, 'Oh sprinkle salt water on it and be quiet.'"

Vilhem giggles loudly so I put a finger over my lips to shush him. We dine on electrocuted fish. I pack the rest of the fish into my backpack and make the hollow under the bushes bigger. The rain starts again as we fall asleep.

-i-


	8. Ch8: The Outcast

-i-

Benedict

-i-

The cameras are still going at night, even if the broadcast is off. Elena and Vilhem are snuggled under some bushes and a camera is positioned at the right angle to catch them where they're hidden. I control the other cameras with a remote, since I'm the only one in the room. Mentors can do so at night, just to check on their tributes. Elena and Vilhem's footage takes up most of the screen, but I also have ten smaller squares of footage at the bottom, from cameras trained on the other ten tributes. They're all sleeping, which is good for me, and also for them. I have no qualms about messing with their lives.

I hear the door open and smell Illumia's perfume. "Benedict, why aren't you sleeping?" I mutter a reply and adjust the camera on Elena and Vilhem. She mumbles my name in her sleep. I'm actually thrilled as shit at it, but I pretend to be annoyed with a roll of my eyes. A secret smile creeps up my lips. "Oh by the gods of Panem, Benedict. I've never seen you so pussy whipped." I scowl in Illumia's direction. To my surprise, she hands me a cup of something and sits down next to me to sip her own glass.

"What's this," I ask, and gesture to it, genuinely shocked at her behavior. She's never nice.

"It's whiskey, stupid. Now drink it and shut up." She takes a big gulp of hers and watches the screens like I've been doing. I'm frozen in place, just staring at her. She looks over at me and immediately looks guilty, like I caught her stealing cookies. "Problem?"

I take my cup and swallow a mouthful. It burns on the way down. "You're never nice to me, or to anyone for that matter. What's changed?"

She sighs and I get comfortable. There's always a long story involved when women sigh before they start talking. "You remember the edict President Snow made when District 5 had a fizzle of rebellion?" I nod. I had been a toddler at the time, but I know the story. "I was in love with an older man named Milo, and he was married off to another woman. I watched them together for two years. I saw her belly swell, and saw the love in her eyes. She didn't know he had loved me first; she thought he only belonged to her. I've had to watch them all these years."

"You could've just stayed away, Illumia," I say gently.

"She's my sister," she answers quietly. I close my eyes in revelation and let go of my breath with a deep sigh. The Illumia I've known all these years is beginning to makes sense. "I volunteered for the second Games, hoping that I would die in the arena and end my torment, but I didn't get my wish. Instead of being put against each other, where I would've been killed by another tribute, the others were slaughtered by the gamemakers. Five kids for no reason fell off their pedestals before the countdown ended and were blown to pieces. Three were set on fire by faulty flint rocks. Four were fried to death in gusts of torrid air that shot from the ground with no warning. Three were swarmed by Tracker Jackers and suffered for days before they died. Four were attacked by bears and mauled to death. Four drank tainted water and hallucinated that each other was their worst fear, so they attacked each other with no mercy. Then there was me who hid out in the cornucopia. I had blankets, food, good flint rocks. I won my default because nothing came for me like it did them."

I remember the stories I'd heard about the first few years of the Games. Knowing the Games like I do, I look back on those years and know that they were designed to make the children suffer. The Capital wanted the rebels to feel the most pain right off the bat. Things now were like a cakewalk compared to the first five years. Only the horror of it has kept the details perfect in Illumia's memory.

"When I saw you infatuated over this girl, I thought you were just being a ninny." I scowl at her again, but she doesn't notice. "Then I recognized that look in your eye." She sips her whiskey and I wait for her to say that the look in my eyes is lust, or folly, like the normal Illumia would say. "You love her like I love my Milo." She sighs with weariness, something I never noticed about her before now, or maybe she's just never shown it. "I still think you're being a ninny. However, I know the pain of losing the one you love." I almost take her hand, but I know she wouldn't appreciate the sympathy. "I'll help you keep the girl alive, Benedict. If she dies, I'll have to listen to you bitch for the rest of my life." I narrow my eyes at her. That's about as sentimental as she gets. "Now get up and go get some sleep. I'll keep watch for you." I give her shoulder a squeeze before I leave. She slaps my hand away. "No emotional crap, Benedict," she warns, making sure I know she's not going to change at all.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear sweet Illumia," I say with a sarcastic smile. She flips me off over her shoulder.

-i-

Elena

-i-

The next morning, we wake up to the sound of four cannons, one close by. Vilhem rubs his eyes and crawls out of the bushes to investigate. I knead my leg while he's gone, trying to massage the pain away. It doesn't help; my leg is perpetually hurting now. He comes back after ten minutes and tugs my sleeve.

"Elena, come see before they take the body away!" He takes me to the bank of the river and there's a girl lying there with a raw fish in her hand and some in her mouth. The same fish we'd been eating. Vilhem picks the fish up from her hand and studies it. "I don't understand, we've been eating the same kind of fish and it didn't kill us."

I shake my head as it hits me. "We cooked ours, Vilhem. They must be toxic when they're raw."

He angrily tosses the fish into the river. "So all the tributes have been dying from toxic fish? I thought the cannons were from fighting. I've been scared this whole time that I would get jumped in my sleep."

I reach over and tug his sleeve. "Come on, we have to leave so the body can be taken." He follows me back to the bushes without saying a word. We spend the rest of the day in silence, sitting in the cornucopia to escape the rain that never ends. Vilhem finally looks up at me when we're eating dinner.

"What do you think they did?"

"Hmm?"

"You know, the other tributes. Why do you think they were voted to be here? Did their Districts not want them like ours didn't want us?" He fiddles with his jacket zipper.

"I don't think we'll ever know," I say quietly. We chew our fish in silence for a few minutes.

"Why are you here, Elena?" he asks suddenly. I bring my head up in surprise. "I mean, I'm a thief, so I know why they chose me. But you…why do they not like you?"

I sigh and pop the last of my fish in my mouth. "I'll tell you. There's no reason not to anymore, I guess." I check the ceiling of the cornucopia and find a camera. Good. Now the whole world will know. "Robert and Ethan were boys at school. Ethan approached me after school one day, I was around 14. He told me I was beautiful and that he wanted me in his bed. I was young, but I knew what he meant. I told him no, and he tried to force me. Robert came by at that moment and saved me. I fell in love with him that day, but I'm not sure if he ever loved me back. I suppose I wanted to believe he did, so when he wanted to become lovers, I agreed. I got a temporary job as a turbine keeper so we could have a place to make love, even though it's not woman's work. We made love quite often, and at first he was gentle and loving. Over the course of a year, Robert morphed into a controlling man. He tried to tie me up when we made love, and he was very rough. I loved him, and I wanted to please him, so I didn't object to the pleasure it brought, but….he scared me sometimes." I wipe my face and realize tears are coming down my cheeks. "He even tried to rape me once when I told him I was too tired."

My voice falters so I pause to collect myself. "Ethan was put in the Games a year after Robert and I became lovers. He told the story to a girl in the arena, how he had wanted me but Robert stole me from him. Every time Robert and I made love, he had had to listen to Robert tell him every detail. The way Robert had put it to him, I was the one who initiated everything, and it made me look like I was the sluttiest woman alive, which he acted like was so sexy and hot. Robert even told Ethan that I had wanted to be with both of them at the same time, which wasn't true at all. Robert had suggested it countless times and I kept refusing. Ethan died in the Games, so he couldn't come home and clear my name. The entire district had heard Ethan paint me as the most corrupted woman they'd ever seen, and they shunned me. My own parents told me that I was dead in their eyes. The only people who are nice to me are my twin brothers, and the peacekeeper that drove me to town all the time." I smile when I remember my brothers, and my hand grabs the turbine necklace under my coat. "After that, Robert was treated like a victim, and while I was ostracized, he received no ill treatment. They thought he had been tricked by me, and hadn't wanted any part of what I had supposedly done. He was innocent to them. The priest of the church told him he could get relief from the 'urges I awoke in him' once a week in the form of a hand job, given by the most pious and innocent girl in the whole district."

"Oh you mean that girl with the huge boobies?" Vilhem laughs as I try to slap him for saying that. "Is his penis really so small that you're still, you know…."

"A virgin?" I smirk, even though it feels weird discussing penis size with a twelve year old. "He wasn't very big. I never bled the first time he had me, nor any of the other times. I'd say I'm still physically one, by the evidence."

"How did you not get pregnant?" he asks innocently.

My face drops. I didn't want to tell him this part of the story, but I might as well. "I did. I was about five months along before I told Robert. He'd been really busy in town, so he wasn't there to see my belly swell. When I told him….I'd never seen him so angry. He wanted me to kill it, but I refused. He came the next day with some tea he said would help with morning sickness. He was so nice and loving to me." I touch my lips to stop them from trembling. "The tea was a special herbal concoction designed to make me miscarry. The baby died, so I sent him away and told him to never come back. The Games were the next month, and then it didn't matter if I had sent him away, he would've left me after what Ethan said."

"That's awful," Vilhem says softly. He reaches over and takes my hand. We sit for a long time and my tears keep falling, but I don't let them overtake me. I don't like remembering my child. I've pushed it and the memories with Robert so far back, sometimes it's like I forget that it happened.

"You know what?" I say suddenly while wiping my face. "I remember what the day after the reaping was. It was my birthday."

"You forgot? Who forgets their birthday?" He bats my foot. "What would you have wished for?"

"Cherries," I answer, without even having to think about it.

"Cherries?" Vilhem says with a smile.

"Yes, cherries. There was a cherry tree on my territory. I buried my child there." My tears almost burst out again, but I stop them. "I used to sit under it and eat the cherries. It helped me heal, I think." I rub my arm, and repress the memories again. "Lightning hit it last year and it stopped producing fruit. I could never afford them in town, so I couldn't have them anymore." I sniff and wipe my face again. "Have you ever had cherries?" He shakes his head. "They're delicious." I smile at him and look away into the rain. After a few minutes, something catches my eye through the downpour. "Do you see that? There's a flashing light over there." I point and stand up to go see what it is. The puddles splash my legs as I go out into the rain. Caught on a low tree branch is a large parachute, meant for Vilhem and me. I bring it back to the cornucopia and open it with Vilhem watching over my shoulder.

Inside is a bowl of red and black pitted cherries, and a note from Benedict.

_Happy birthday, little girl._

-i-


	9. Ch9: An End

-i-

Benedict

-i-

It's down to the final eight, and that means interviewing Elena's family. Fresca escorts the media down to District 5 every year to interview the families, while Illumia and I stay at the Capital. Since Elena's parents don't acknowledge her, and she has no friends, her brothers are it. Vilhem has no one, but as the interviews start, I see a woman on the screen dressed in nice clothes who claims to be the head of the group home. She pretends to know Vilhem and talks about how nice he is. I roll my eyes.

Elena's brothers are next. I see the similarities with their faces and hers. My heart pangs a little, but I ignore it.

"We're here with Gin and Spark Flint, Elena Flint's brothers," the off-screen female interviewer, Carob, says. "What is Elena like?" Gin, the more masculine of the twins, is the first to speak up.

"Elena is the best sister in the world," he answers. "She's nice, she's pretty, and if we ever find out who this Benedict guy is, we're kicking him in the nuts."

I choke on my coffee while I watch the interview on the mentor television screen.

Spark, the feminine one, looks just as angry. "She's hallucinating from hunger, and instead of calling the names of her handsome brothers, she's whispering the name of some guy? Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"Benedict…You mean Benedict Grey, the winner of the 11th Hunger Games? I think he's her mentor," Carob says.

"Him?" Spark says in shock. "Geez. Thought she had better taste than that."

I hear Illumia snickering next to me. "When I first saw them, I thought maybe she was adopted, but now it's way too obvious that they're related." I wave her away.

"In the arena, Elena said some things about her past," Carob says. "What was the general reaction of District 5 to this?"

"Our parents said they still disown her," Gin says. "Something about 'because she's known a man.' They're kind of religious zealots."

"The entire district is buzzing," Spark adds. "No one knows how take it. They're not sure to believe Robert and Ethan, as they have been, or to believe Elena."

"Has the cherry tree been checked?" Carob asks.

"It has. We found a small grave," Gin says, his face betraying that it had affected him. "We made sure Robert couldn't remove the evidence."

"We had no idea that Lena had been pregnant and that Robert killed the baby." Spark wipes a genuine tear from his eye.

"It must've been a shock," Carob says quietly. There's some silence as the brothers calm down. "We tried to find Robert to get his comment on all of this, but he's missing. Have you two seen him?"

Gin shakes his head. "Oh hell no, he disappeared after what Elena said. Him and his handie giver." He makes a motion like he's giving a hand job and snickers.

Spark slaps Gin's arm. "He'll turn up sooner or later. And Elena will let him have it when he does."

"What if Elena doesn't come home? Have you thought about it?" Carob asks, bringing up the one subject no one wants to talk about. They both look sad again, Gin more so than Spark.

"Then we'll bury her under the cherry tree with her baby," Gin says in a choked voice. Carob comes on the screen and wraps up the District 5 interviews.

"She might just come back a respectable woman, if she survives," she says without moving from her chair. I'm silent as their speech threatens to overturn my emotions. "What's the matter now," she asks with a sigh.

"It's the baby," I say, my voice about to crack. "I was trying to forget it."

"Don't brood over it, Benedict," she says firmly, bringing me out of my stupor. "If she dies, it will be wasting your time. If she lives, she's already moved past it, and it would hurt her more if you don't let it go."

"Stop being so nice. I liked you better when you were mean."

She smirks. "By the way, they lingered at the cornucopia for too long. There are two boys on their trail."

"WHAT?"

-i-

Elena

-i-

It's hard to force ourselves to save half of the cherries for breakfast, but when we wake up to their smell, we know it was worth it. We polish them off and eat a few fish to fill our stomachs. Our fish supply is low, since Vilhem eats like a horse, so we leave the cornucopia to catch and electrocute more. The monotony of the last few days is creeping up on me, and in the back up my mind, I know something will happen soon. I push the thoughts away.

We catch a net full of fish and go back to the pond. My leg is beginning to throb with every step from all the walking, but I don't say anything. I've just finished cooking the fish, when I hear Vilhem make a weird noise. I turn and see him lying on the ground with an arrow in his stomach, and two boy tributes standing over him. I scream in horror and grab my electricity stick. They're not impressed.

"Well, if it isn't the little slut from District 5," the big one says. Well, the bigger one. They're both very big, I note with a gulp.

The other one looks me over in a way that makes my skin crawl. "I'm glad we planned to have some fun with her before we kill her."

I put my stick out in front of me to warn them to stay back. "Don't come near me," I say with a voice that isn't as strong as I would like. "There will be no fun here."

The first one laughs again, and he charges me. Before I can press the button on my stick, he has it in his hands, and he breaks the tip off. I'm powerless. He comes closer and I stumble to the ground, my hands reaching for anything to protect myself with. My fingers grasp Vilhem's harpoon. I close my eyes and channel Benedict's face to give me courage, then I thrust the harpoon forward into the guy's stomach. I hear him make a gurgling noise and feel some blood drip on me. He falls over to the ground and a cannon sounds. His friend is staring at me in disbelief. I pull the harpoon out, keeping my eyes away from the body, and then point it at my opponent.

"You're next," I say in a murderous tone I didn't know I had. I charge forward and overtake him, which is a miracle in itself. I use the harpoon to trip him and then straddle his back. "Pray to whatever god you believe in." The harpoon sinks into his neck. Another cannon. I close my eyes and catch my breath, then hear a noise behind me. I pull the harpoon out and turn, holding it in front of me to stop an enemy, but the noise is Vilhem. I race to him and hold his head up. "I killed them," I say quietly.

He laughs and coughs a few times. "You were so cool, Elena." I laugh and sob at the same time. "Don't cry for me. I was already dead anyways."

"Don't say that," I say roughly, and start fussing with his jacket.

"Even if I had won, I would've died soon. I'm sick," he says matter-of-factly, like it has become normal to him. "That's why the factory didn't want to hire me when I turned 8. I'm a liability."

I sniff a few times. "How did you get sick?"

"I think I was born sick. I really don't remember. My parents couldn't afford to fix me, and then they died." He swallows a few times. "I went to a healer a few weeks back to see how long I would live, in case I was voted for. He said I had maybe a month left."

"Why the fuck didn't you say anything?" Water drops keep falling onto him. I realize they're my tears.

"I knew you'd try to make me win if I did, just so my grave would be remembered. But you deserve to win more than I do. I don't have anyone waiting for me to come home. You have Benedict, and your brothers. They'll be sad if you can't come back." He smiles slightly and a drip of blood falls from his mouth. "Will you win for me, Elena?" he says hoarsely. "Win so I'll get a nice grave?"

My tears are raining down. "You bet your ass I will." He closes his eyes and his cannon sounds. I start to sob and cradle him in my arms. The hovercraft will be by soon to get his body, but I can't move. I don't want to leave him. Somehow, I force myself up and walk back to the pond. I pack the fish in my bag and start walking towards the cornucopia so Vilhem's body can be retrieved. The harpoon in my hand drips blood from my kills. I count the amount of deaths in my head. There are four more tributes, and I'm going to end them. Vilhem will get a grave, even if I have to kill to get it.

I'm going hunting.

-i-


	10. Ch10: Trying to let go

-i-

Benedict

-i-

It's Illumia's job to send her tribute's body back to District 5. A team preps Vilhem for the journey and places his body in a plain coffin. I stand beside it and stroke the wood with my hand. Illumia doesn't spare tears for him.

"What are we doing with it," she asks quietly. "He had no family. That lady from the group home didn't even know him."

"It's staying here with us until Elena comes back," I say with more confidence than I feel.

"Benedict, you can't keep believing in her survival," Illumia says firmly. "I saw her leg. Everyone saw it. She can barely walk. I thought at first it was just hunger, then maybe the loss of Vilhem, but she's crippled, and you knew it the entire time. The other four tributes are big and strong. They chase her, and it's over. You know they're waiting for her. You've seen them on the footage. They've been plotting her death since before they even entered the arena."

I can't listen to Illumia's words. "Stop it," I order her. "Just shut up, Illumia." I have to force myself to not collapse, because I know her words are true.

"I won't shut up. You've pinned your entire existence on her survival. Did you survive your Games just to be killed during another one? I know we're not friends, and I have no obligation to help you. However, no matter how much I help you, I have no problem telling you that your actions stink of folly. She has no chance." Illumia slaps her hand loudly on the coffin. "It's her in this coffin now. Say goodbye, and leave everything in this room."

My knees give out and I sit against the coffin. Illumia is right. With the way I've been handling Elena, she's already dead. "I have an emergency plan," I mutter.

"Are you sending her a new leg?" Illumia says sarcastically. "Or maybe you'll kill the other tributes for her?"

Just when I have begun to like her, I suddenly hate Illumia again. "I won't let her die, Illumia. I'll make sure of it."

"You have no control here, Benedict," she snips, saying the one thing I don't want to think.

"Enough already," I say in rage while I stand up. "You might think that you're helping me, but you're not. I've told you before, go back to the old Illumia that hates everyone, and leave me be."

"Fine. I won't help you anymore. I'll just leave you to ruin. You can dump the boy in the sea for all I care." She turns and stomps out of the room. I collapse against the coffin and give myself over to my tears.

I cry for a long time, until I'm too tired to keep crying. Somehow, I find my way back to the apartment and my room. When I crumple onto the bed, I take a huge breath, and smell Elena. I've wandered into her room instead of mine. Her clothes are on the dresser, cleaned and folded. I get up and grab one pile. It unfolds in my hand and it's the dress she wore at the reaping, the one that made her cleavage look incredible.

I didn't notice her at first, even though I'd like to say that I did. I was sitting there on the stage in-between Illumia and the mayor, Rumford. They were chatting to each other, ignoring me as they usually did. Life was dull for me, and being a mentor was the only time I did anything worth mentioning. I didn't pay attention when the envelope was read, or when she got onto the stage. When she threw her jacket off and her cleavage was on every screen in the square, that's when I finally looked up and saw her. Of course, my initial reaction was an erection from the sight of her breasts. Then my gaze travelled up and I saw her face. I think my heart pinged, if I believed in sappy stuff like that. She and Vilhem left the stage and I was frozen to my seat. Half of it was not wanting anyone to notice my erection.

I'll admit, at first I thought she was just a piece of ass. I fantasized about taking her while we were driven to the train. I'd never been with a tribute, and hadn't even been with a woman in a long time. Then we were on the train, and suddenly, she had spirit and attitude, and she morphed from a piece of ass to a woman. Every day, I lost more of my heart to her.

Everything has happened so fast, I've not allowed myself time to process it all. I bring her dress up to my nose and find it smelling like whatever it was cleaned with. No good. I go to her bed and rub the dress all over the sheets, then bring it back up for a sniff. That's better. I lie back down and put the dress right next to my nose. I stroke the soft linen and picture Elena here with me. Would I make love to her or just hold her to me, I ask myself. Probably both. I remember her telling Vilhem that she's still a physical virgin, and my cock hardens. If she dies, I'll never be able to make her belong to me. I'll never know what her face looks like when she's in ecstasy, or what her favourite food is.

Even though Illumia said I should, and I know it's probably better if I do, I don't allow myself to let her go.

-i-

Elena

-i-

I've been walking for hours, and my leg feels like a bear mauled it. My face is streaked with tears from the pain. It doesn't stop me. I limp along the forest in the steady ever-present rain, and I'm glad for it, because I don't have to worry about being noisy. I can't stop to rest. If I do, I won't be able to get back up again. The sun starts to set, and I have my first bit of luck.

I see a cave with a tribute in it.

It's a girl, and she's just started a fire to cook some fish. I can't recall noticing her during training, or at the cornucopia. Somehow, I wish I'd paid more attention. She looks small, but I don't buy that she's weak. She's made it this far. I walk towards her, my harpoon in one hand, my left leg dragging. She doesn't turn around, not even when I'm so close that I could touch her with my harpoon. I take a deep breath, shut my eyes, and plunge it forward. A cannon sounds. I pull the harpoon back and hear her body fall. That was too easy, I think to myself. I peek with one eye. She's dead. I scan the cave for anything useful, and find nothing, so I turn and walk away. Three more to go.

I don't sleep. I don't even stop to pee. The hours roll by as I search for my prey. Night turns to morning, and I've made a full circle around the arena. My leg has slowly built up to an unbearable pain. I've just figured out I'm close to the cornucopia, when I collapse from pain and exhaustion. I lie there on the ground and my tears start to flow. I've looked everywhere and I can't find the other tributes. Maybe I should just give up and die here.

-i-

Benedict

-i-

I can see it in Elena's eyes when she gives up. Her leg is beyond its limit, and with the other tributes evading her, she won't be able to find them. She cries and lays there for a long time. When her tears dry up, she looks for the camera and stares straight into it.

"I'm sorry, Benedict," she whispers. My tears escape, and I almost feel beaten. Maybe she'll never come back to me. Before I can dive into the abyss of those thoughts, a voice makes an announcement.

"Attention tributes," the voice says. "There are now four of you left, and to celebrate this, we would like to inform you that the toxic fish are not completely safe to eat when they're cooked. All of you will need medicine within the next ten minutes or the toxic levels in your blood will kill you. There is currently one dose of medicine at the cornucopia, so only the winner will be receiving this life-saving dosage. We hope you enjoy deciding who will be the lucky recipient. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Everyone in the mentor room is silent. Elena's face is turning from shocked to horrified, so I get up quickly before the other mentors can react, and set up a parachute. I'm breaking my decision, but I don't care. The parachute falls into the arena after a few minutes, and lands in front of Elena's head. She opens it and finds a shot of medicine with my note.

'_Inject this into your leg and get up, little girl.'_

Medicine in the arena is always costly. I can see her acknowledging this on her face. She plunges the needle into her leg and within minutes, it takes effect and numbs all of the pain below her knee. She gets up and finds the camera again.

"Thank you," she breathes in relief. She's crying again, in pure gratitude. I join her, and start crying silently.

"Quit crying, Benedict," Illumia says next to me. Despite my telling her to piss off more than once, she's still sitting beside me. "You sent her medicine," she says matter-of-factly. "Maybe she'll make it after all. That leg looks done for, though. She's dragging it around like a limp noodle. She's closer to the cornucopia, so that's good. The others stopped following her for a lunch break, so she'll probably get there first." I nod, watching the other tributes carefully.

The three tributes left are big muscled girls. From the things they've said in the arena, they have wanted to kill Elena since her interview. They saw how beautiful and sexy she was, how she'd caught all the boys' attention, and would probably get all the sponsors, and because of all this, they wanted her dead. They took care to only discuss their plans when the broadcast was off at night, but since Illumia and I have been taking turns watching the cameras at all times, we knew their plans. They'd planted that girl there for Elena to kill. The girl thought she was part of their group, so she was cooking their fish while they went out to bathe. They told her any noise she heard was them, and to ignore it. So Elena killed a sitting duck.

Then the three girls followed Elena around the arena, waiting for her to tire out so they could catch her. They actually planned to force her to service them sexually before they kill her. I had to swallow bile in my mouth when they planned that part.

"I don't know if that harpoon will do her any good," Illumia says absently. "I heard some mentors bragging about sending guns to their tributes."

"WHAT?" I scream at her as I snap up and grab her shirt with both hands.

"I'm. Kidding," she says slowly. "Loosen up. I'm here supporting you, aren't I? I haven't once told you you're being a total moron and you should leave here and take up knitting."

"You're a saint, Illumia," I say with complete sarcasm. She points to the screen with one hand, and flips me off with the other.

On the screen, Elena is at the cornucopia, and has just injected herself with the shot for fish poisoning. A second later, an arrow hits her above the heart.

-i-


	11. Ch11: The Plotters

-i-

Elena

-i-

I stagger as the arrow hits me, and I almost fall over. The other three tributes are at the edge of the clearing, and I can tell by their faces that they have it out for me.

"You are the most annoying bitch ever, five," one of them says, her breath shallow from running.

The one with the bow loads another arrow. "We thought you would've tired out hours ago, but we had to chase you all across the arena. How does a weak person like you have that kind of strength?"

I attempt a shrug, and wince as the arrow tugs on my chest muscles. I'm not really sure how I had the strength to do what I did. "Guess I'm just special like that," I say with a small laugh. I wince again and press against my skin under the arrow. My hand is immediately soaked in blood.

"We were going to torture you before we killed you, but now we don't have the time," the third girl says.

"Oh darn. Guess I don't have any luck." I laugh a little and cough a few times. I try to remember how much time has passed but my brain refuses to work, and before I can finish trying, I'm hit with another arrow to my other shoulder. I stagger again and drop to my knees as the pain heightens. "Trying to prove a point? Get it….point…" I gesture to the arrows in me and try to laugh again. My smile falls and I cough more.

"You're going to die, you ugly slut," one of them says with venom, her voice closer than before.

"Sticks and stones," I mutter, still trying to be funny. My eyesight becomes blurry with the pain, and I wish my hallucination of Benedict would re-appear, just so he could be here while I die. "Besides, I took the medicine and there was only one dose."

"So we kill you-"

"-then each other," I add. I can feel the heat of them glaring at me for that comment.

"And then whoever is left, the Capital will give a dose to."

"Sound logic," I say with a heave of breath. I can feel my lungs filling with blood. "Tell me, why do you want me to die?" I'm glad they don't notice I'm wasting time.

"You paraded around like a whore, and all the sponsors wanted you. We knew that you had a good chance of winning because of that. And then we saw your leg before the kid was killed. Just by seeing you walk, it was obvious that you're crippled. If we'd known about your leg, you would've been dead the first day."

I close my eyes and sigh. Now Benedict's instructions made sense. He couldn't have me walking around during training or my leg would've been seen.

"Guess we fooled you," I say with a smile. "Crippled tributes are usually dead within minutes. Now the cripple this year makes it to the last day. Don't you just love irony?"

"Do you need another arrow, five?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." My body is threatening every second to fall over, but I know if I do, the girls will make sure I die. I picture Benedict's face to keep me upright. I will be back to see him. I won't allow myself to die.

"God, how long will it take for you to die?" one of them complains. It's clear they want me to suffer, so they don't care about speeding up the process.

"I don't plan on dying, ladies," I say while forcing my eyes to focus. "I made a promise to not give up, no matter what."

"We've already beaten you, five. Your promise doesn't matter now."

I bend one knee up, and with effort, stand back up again. "That's where you're wrong," I say. "I promised the man I love that I wouldn't give up. And I'm not going to."

"I'm going to riddle you with holes, five," the archer says as she loads another arrow.

I put my hand up. "Did anyone ask their mentor for a watch?" They all stop and look at me like I just asked for cake.

"What the hell does that mean?" one of them asks.

"It took about four minutes for me to get up off the ground after the announcement, then it took about two minutes to get here, and you've spent almost four minutes gabbing. The time limit was ten minutes." I force myself to stay upright. "If you were smart, you would've shut me up with another arrow, but you let me waste your time. And now your grace period is over."

"Why you little-" The girl cuts off and starts to cough like blood is coming up. "Doesn't….. matter…" she gets out. "You'll…die with us." She makes a small roar for effort and I dimly see her lift her bow to try to shoot me again. The other girls have collapsed on the ground coughing up blood. The one with the bow can't even lift her arm high enough, and crumples down. Three cannons go off, and I fall to the ground.

I've won. I did it. The cripple won the Hunger Games.

"I didn't give up, Benedict," I whisper. I smile to myself and the world starts to get hazy.

-i-

Benedict

-i-

As soon as Elena is lifted out of the arena, I'm on my feet to where the hovercraft will land. It takes them an hour to bring her back, and in that time, I've bitten away all my nails. Finally, it arrives, and I have to stand still while they open the doors and wheel her out. The arrows have been broken off, but the tips are still inside her. I run up to her and shove one of the nurses away.

"Elena! Elena can you hear me?" I don't shake her, even though I want to. She looks lifeless, and my heart stops beating. "Elena, no! You can't die! How will Vilhem get a grave if you die, you selfish girl!"

The nurse I shoved grabs me away. "You'll have to leave, mentor. She needs to get to surgery right away. She's not dead, so calm down." Of course she's not dead. The Games needs a winner. The winner wouldn't dare die and make the Capital look bad. I stand still and watch them take her away.

"She won't die, Benedict." Illumia has come out to join me, though I don't know when. I reach a finger up to chew on the nail and she slaps my arm. "Stop that. Your fingers are already bleeding." I start to follow the gurney with Illumia on my heels. My nerves won't calm down, and I know they won't until I see Elena awake and okay.

When she was shot with the second arrow, I had to leave the mentor room before I collapsed in front of everyone. I sat on the carpet in the District 5 suite with everyone else on our team, and watched Elena talk away the other tributes' last minutes. I especially enjoyed watching her mention her promise to me, and say that I'm the man she loves. Then the other girls coughed up blood and died. Elena won. Everyone started jumping around the room, and Fresca became so excited that he kissed Mano on the lips, which quickly turned into a make-out session. From the looks on their faces, they'd wanted to do that for a long time. Everyone made the appropriate wolf noises, and told them to take it elsewhere. My face didn't move from the screen while the cameras filmed Elena's lifeless body being lifted into the hovercraft. I heard her whisper my name more than once.

Following the gurney that Elena is in takes us to the hospital wing of the building. They wheel her into the operating room and tell us we can stand outside and watch them cut the arrows out. I don't speak for over ten minutes, and then Illumia interrupts me from watching the beeping machine showing Elena's heartbeat.

"I didn't actually believe she could make it, you know. I decided to humor you, just because you love her."

I give her a sideways glance and find her chewing one of her perfect nails. I grin and cross my arms across my chest. "But you were still thinking how much of a delusional idiot I was?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of…..love-sick cow?" We both smile, and I'm again struck by the weirdness of her being so nice.

"What did I tell you about not being the rude mean Illumia?"

"Oh get over it. I'll be mean when I feel like it."

I snicker, and then the heart monitor catches my attention again. It's only showing a straight line. Elena's heart isn't beating.

-i-


	12. Ch12: Victory?

-i-

Elena

-i-

I wake up to the beeping of a heart monitor. My eyes blink several times before I can see clearly again, and I find Benedict sitting at the end of my bed, calmly reading a pamphlet entitled, "The Wonders of the Districts." I wiggle my legs and try to stretch, but find my left leg bandaged. My wiggling catches Benedict's attention.

"You're awake," he says with relief.

I shake the sheet above my knee. "What's wrong with my leg?"

He looks over at it and then back at me. I can tell he's reluctant to tell me. "Your leg was permanently damaged in the arena. You pushed it past the limit, since it was already injured. You'll have to use a cane from now on." He gestures to the hospital chair beside my bed, and on it is a cane for me to use. I suppose I should feel grateful that I at least survived the Games. Losing my leg shouldn't matter. "It's not so bad, little girl. I carved a smiley face on it." I smile sadly and fiddle with the blankets. Benedict's hand takes mine and he brings one up to his lips. "You won, little girl. I knew you could do it."

I smile again, this time happily. "I guess I didn't get any sponsors, except for the one who bought the cherries. Winners usually get lots of sponsors."

He kisses my fingers individually and my skin heats up. "You had sponsors. You had more sponsors that I've ever gotten for a tribute. Most of the other tributes didn't even have any because everyone wanted to sponsor you."

I pull my hand away in anger. "Then why did you only send me cherries and the pain medicine?" He could've sent me everything I needed, and I wouldn't have lost my leg! I turn away from him in a huff.

"You told me you wanted to win to prove your worth. How are you supposed to prove your worth if I'm sending you three course meals and high tech weapons? Everyone would say you won because of me, and not because you tried hard. District 5 would never accept you back if you had won from being handed everything. So I let you win on your own, and believe me, it was the worst decision I ever made."

My eyes travel up to meet his, and I can see in them the pain and worry he's gone through. He had to sit back and watch me almost die in the arena because he wanted to honor my intentions. The strain must've almost made him break in two. I grab his tie and pull him to me. He plops forward onto my shoulder and I hold him tightly to my chest. I stroke his loose brown curls while we both relax against each other.

It suddenly hits me, all of the feelings I pushed away while I was in the arena. Chills go up my spine and I hold him closer to me. I was so afraid I would never see him again. If I had harbored that thought in the arena, it would've distracted me. Now the feeling sweeps over me, and my body starts to shake.

He doesn't say anything, he just holds me, and smooths my hair down my back. He knows what I'm thinking, as he has since we first met. I used to think that my brothers could read my thoughts because their twin telepathy somehow extended to me. Now I wonder if I'm just so open with my feelings that I'm easy to read.

Benedict gets up quickly and gives me a peck on the cheek. "Rest up, little girl. Your interview is tomorrow." He tries to stand, but I still have his tie. I pull it slowly towards me until his face is an inch from mine. "You are playing a dangerous game," he says softly, his breathing getting faster at my proximity.

"I already played a dangerous game." My breath hits his lips and I feel the draw of my attraction to him. "I don't intend to lose this one either." I can taste the smell of his lips. I have to have them.

Benedict slaps my hand holding his tie and stands up. "Get some rest," he says before leaving the room.

Buzz kill.

-i-

Mano styles my dyed hair into a chignon with ringlets escaping. Coupled with a red dress that shows almost all of my back and a hint of cleavage in front, I'm again a seductress. I walk with my cane down the empty hallway, and wait to join AJ Sweetbottom. The ghosts of the fallen tributes are everywhere in this hallway. I have flashes of memories from the first interview day. Their faces are too fuzzy, since I didn't pay much attention to the other tributes, but Vilhem's is very clear. Too clear.

I step closer to the stage and focus on AJ Sweetbottom. He's chattering to the crowd and wiggling his large body around in his chair. The crowd laughs a few times, and then the stage attendant pushes me forward.

I slowly walk with my cane to AJ, who takes my hand and announces me. "This is the winner of the 25th annual Hunger Games, Elena Flint!" He cheers with the crowd and directs me to the chair next to his. "I think this year was an exciting year. With the toxic fish, your past being brought to the open, and your leg. I've never seen a crippled tribute win the Games before!"

I can't think of a response to his words, since they're a tad bit derogatory. Simply because I'm injured, that means I'm not capable? He smiles at me while my head works. "I'm used to being underestimated," I respond with a grin. "I was determined to win, and not even my leg was going to hold me back."

"That story you told, about your past in District 5." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I think we were all moved when you spoke about your child buried under the cherry tree."

I go perfectly still and plaster my face with a neutral expression. Why did he have to mention the one thing I try to forget? Does he think it's a sweet nostalgia to remember that Robert killed my child? There is nothing romantic or beautiful about a memory like that.

Focus, focus. Panem is watching.

I channel Benedict and try to respond how he would. "Nothing can erase the pain of losing my child, and no matter what I do in the future, that baby will always be in my thoughts. I hope one day I can have a real child to ease the ache of the one I lost, but nothing will make me fully forget." AJ is watching me intently for more, and motions for me to say something else, something to make the crowd even more satisfied with me. "I never hated Robert for what he did. I hated him for abandoning me. For not loving me. For not loving my child." I look back up at AJ and sigh to gather my emotions. "I'm not a vengeful person, but for Robert, I'll make an exception. I hope he regrets what he did for the rest of his life."

AJ pats my knee. "How could he not regret hurting a beautiful woman like you?" He smiles and nods to say that I answered well. "Maybe your next lover will show him what's what, eh?" He laughs and wiggles while the crowd makes the appropriate cheers and whistles. No doubt most of the men are hoping they could be my next lover.

After AJ says a few more lighthearted things about how special I am to everyone now, we watch the Games highlights. Most of the action came from me this year, surprise surprise, and the girls who had plotted for my demise. We all watch tributes dying from the poisonous fish, which is actually pretty gross to watch and I'm very glad I didn't have to see it in the arena. We watch the important bits of my confession, and the crucial moment when Vilhem was killed and I turned into a hunter. The look in my eyes is one I've never seen before, as if I'm suddenly the strongest woman alive, and nothing can stop me, not even death. I'm transfixed through the rest of the video and make the proper farewells before trying to leave the stage.

Who was that woman I saw? That strong woman that wasn't afraid of anything? It doesn't feel as if that was really me.

"Wait, wait," AJ says while grabbing my arm. "We have another video to play."

There's never more than the clips, so I sit down in confusion. A video begins to play, and it's Benedict's side of the Games. The screen is split with me on one side to show what he's reacting to. His face looks as different as mine did, to the point that I'm not sure I'm really watching Benedict. This man is full-on in love with me. He's worrying about me, he's staying up all night to make sure I'm okay. His face when I was in pain looked like he was in agony too. Illumia was there too, and I could tell she had softened towards Benedict, for unknown reasons. Even Illumia changed?

"Looks like someone has it bad for you, Elena," AJ says in a joking tone. "Why did he not send you enough parachutes? You certainly had sponsors, as we can see." He gestures to the screen where sponsors are all gathered around Benedict, demanding he send me something. Benedict tells them to wait, to their displeasure. "He could have ensured your victory, as the man who loves you, but he chose to barely help you."

"I wanted to win on my own strength, and Benedict let me." My smile curves up without permission, betraying my feelings.

AJ wags his finger at me with a grin. "I think I smell wedding bells in the future." My face displays my shock, and AJ saves me by laughing it off and ending the interview.

Oh balls….

-i-


End file.
